


The Truth

by SkeletonFlowerAri



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Moral Dilemmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeletonFlowerAri/pseuds/SkeletonFlowerAri
Summary: Wandering dusky Mirkwood is a quiet creature who catches the eye of Prince Legolas. And peering from his lofty gaze, King Thranduil, also cannot seem to escape a swirling pair of green eyes that mysteriously appears in the Elvenking's Halls. The creature is bewitching, Tauriel observes her only ambition succumb to its power. The only way to stop the creature is The Truth.
Relationships: Azog (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Tauriel, Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Confluence

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story starts quite tame and fluffy before moving on to darker/triggering themes.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is complete fiction written in Tolkien's Hobbit/LOTR universe. I've recycled some names and made others up, but I am in no way an expert of Tolkien or his work. If you've recognised this fic, it is six years old and currently being reposted with edits and additional chapters. Thank you for your patience, please REVIEW!
> 
> TW: Sexual Abuse, Rape, Mental Illness, and Violence.

Mirkwood, a wide expanse of trees, spiders, rivers and elves, sits between the Misty Mountains and the Iron Hills as part of the Wilderland. In its north most corner, where the Forest River and Enchanted River confluence are the Elven King's Halls where the Great King Thranduil and his only son, Prince Legolas, ruled over the wood-elves.

Amrun, morning, in Mirkwood was like watching summer turn into autumn, as the deep green leaves of the trees turned to a violent orange under the rising, panoptic sun. The air was fresher as though it awoke with the Elves from a numbing slumber to revive the forest and its inhabitants.

To the west of the Elven King's Halls and into the surrounding forest, a stream weaved around the tall beech trees, flowing over grey pebbles and contained by grassy banks on either side. A young she-elf lay flat upon the grassy bank, her lithe body covered in a patch of warm, bright sunlight that breached through the treetops. She stared into the sky from the tiny holes between the branches, a beauty she would lose herself in for hours at a time. She dangled her right arm over the edge of the bank, letting her fingers gently graze the surface of the stream.

Spring had yielded the softest grass, fit to compare to a feather bed and the orchestra of chirping birds overhead only encouraged her drowse. The elleth tangled her fingers in the dewy blades, welcoming the nostalgia of home; from the light trickling of the stream to the softly blowing wind, the elleth understood why Elves chose to live in such places. Their wide lifespans see them through the many changes of Middle Earth, the trauma it inflicts latching onto their bodies for hundreds to thousands of years which can be silenced only by the pulchritude of creation.

Yawing, she settled further into the grass completely lost to her own thoughts, letting the world around her fade into a dream.

Meanwhile, a cloaked Elf was strolling by the stream, throwing smooth grey pebbles into the clear water as he walked. Every now and again he'd pass a deeply rooted tree and would reach up to swing on a low branch or would bend low to roll on his back over a tree stump whilst grinning like a child. He continued to wander through the dense forest, never making a sound, for the crunching of leaves and twigs underfoot is the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for Elves. He finally reached a familiar landmark which indicated he was close to home, it was some tall, thin brush that formed a border around a small grassy cove. As he approached the brush, he noticed, through the gaps between its branches, an unmoving body laying by the edge of the river bank. The bright sunlight hid the body in a blinding light which ignited curiosity in him. So the elf stood back and surveyed the area around him and found a sturdy tree whose branches overlooked the cove. He reached out and grasped a thick low branch using it to pull himself up then hoisted himself higher into the tree. When he arrived onto a branch that lay over the sleeping body, he slowly crawled on it until he almost hit the very end.

His lips parted on a soundless gasp as he drunk in the sight of her. Her body was draped in fine, pale green layers of sheer material that moulded to every crease of her sleeping form revealing her full bust, small waist and the gentle flare of her hips. Her heart-shaped face lay upon a cloud of midnight hair, her cheekbones fringed by her long dark eyelashes. He inched forward, desperate for a closer look, until he heard a loud crack of the branch behind him. Frantically turning around, he saw the base of the branch was already half detached from the trunk and he was now swinging on its remaining strength. He heard movement below him and returned his gaze to the young elleth who he saw now was wide awake, her eyes searching for the source of the sound. The elf tried to move back soundlessly, praying to the Valar he'd escape unnoticed.

The elleth scanned the brushes ahead of her, holding onto the edge of the bank in fear. The air was eerily silent, only the rapid tattoo of her heart drummed in her ears. However her eyes noticed a peculiar shadow a few metres from her. It was moving oddly and as she raised her head to look up, a branch snapped with an echoing crack, falling with a large object on its back. The she-elf jolted in surprise, the soil under her grip gave way sending her flying into the stream behind her, the rushing water drowning her screams.

The elf rolled off the branch to find the elleth was nowhere to be seen but noticed the collapsed edge of the bank. In a state of panic he rushed over to the verge and saw her flailing under the clear running water. He reached his arms into the water and scooped her up, her body still struggling in his dripping embrace. She coughed out, to the side, all the water that was trapped before settling back into the cradle of his arms.

"Let me help you." He said as calmly as he could muster, although her incessant wiggling had an unwanted effect on him.

The elleth's eyes broke open at the sound of him, her chest feeling heavier as she drowned in his looks. His piercing sky blue eyes surrounded by straight white-blonde hair and his serious countenance loomed over her which only drew emphasis to his high cheekbones and taut jawline. The elf was drawn in by her pale green eyes, unlike the usual blue of his kind, and wondered how she came across such a staggering feature. He noted the way her drenched dress now clung to her body, her pouting nipples protruding through the clingy fabric, it had taken a different kind of strength for the elf to not let his thumb gently circle them.

Softly, he placed her body onto the grass before reaching behind him and yanking off his cloak, never breaking his gaze on her. The elleth took the cloak and wrapped it around her which immediately replaced some of the warmth she lost from the strange elf's body.

"Are you unhurt?" He asked.

The elleth was internally fighting the shoots of heat that loped through her nerves as though they were lit fuses burning their way to a part of her that she locked away. The elf brought himself closer to her, inspecting her body for injury but in the way she wrapped herself in the cloak made this task impossible. The elleth sat upright and turned away from the Elf in an effort to quell the raging desire in her and after a moment the heat surging through her body now ran like treacle. She looked up, hugging the cloak tighter to her body, and noticed the fallen branch.

"You were watching me?" She asked simply. She heard the elf tense, his breathing hitched and he gulped loudly.

"It was not my intention to startle you." He replied with trepidation.

"Then what was your intention?" She began, her tone implying something of a lewd nature and she turned to face him, "it can't have been good if I almost drowned because of it."

She immediately regretted facing the elf, his blue eyes and broad shoulders had her distracted in an instant.

"I apologise, it was not my intention to drown you," he offered, his tone laced in mockery. The elleth was drawn back by his playfulness which caused her ire to flare up. She flicked a clump of wet black hair over her cloaked shoulder and narrowed her wide green eyes into angry slits.

"I'd appreciate it if you would just leave me be," she began, her words as sharp as arrow heads, "I will not be yours to torment."

Now it was his turn to sit back at her tone and the unfamiliar feeling of dejection forced him to gaze upon her sweet face impassively.

"I, Legolas, offer my deepest, most profound apologies for scaring you."

The elleth blanched, her eyes grew wide in recognition. Legolas...Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.

"P-prince Legolas?" She stuttered, her mortification evident on her blushing cheeks.

He nodded, confused by her change in tone.

The elleth bowed immediately, her knees digging to the ground.

"You have my sincerest apologies my Prince, I did not recognise you. It is my own fault I fell in and nothing to do with you." Taking off the cloak and holding it up to Legolas, "please take this back, I am not worthy of your kindness."

Legolas lifted her chin with a slender finger, forcing his gaze unto her embarrassed face. Something stirred deep inside him, an deepening warmth that coiled in his lower regions as their eyes connected.

"I may be a Prince," he began, his face inching closer to hers. "But I am no monster."

The elleth looked into his eyes, rivulets of water trickling down the sides of her face; searching for something in those bright blue depths that she could not name. He sensed her apprehension and stood up, helping her from the ground also. He knew she feared him and was determined to change that.

"Let me take you home." He asked.

The elleth shook her head, "my Prince it is not necessary, I can-".

Her words stopped short when Legolas reached under chin again, letting his eyes resume its gaze on her pretty face.

"I am taking you home." He said sternly.

Legolas lightly trailed his finger down the curve of her cheekbone, marvelling at the exquisite softness of her pale skin which held no blemish, it was as clear as the stream she fell in. At this thought, Legolas smiled to himself. The elleth bent her head at his smile, discomfited by what he must be thinking of her.

The elleth grasped the cloak, its earthy green colour now dark from absorbing the stream from her wet body. They turned to the small clearing behind the brush, awkwardly stepping over the broken tree branch in silence.

They meandered between the trees whose branches and leaves knitted so tightly together that only specks of sunlight dotted over the hard ground below. The usual clatter of birds no longer had their relaxing effect but only increased the awkward tension between the pair. When they broke through more brush onto a winding gravelly path, Legolas turned to look at her. Her wet hair hung from her head like clumpy string and her cheeks were tinted with a fading red. The elleth, however, spent the silence trying to stay warm; she wore the thin cloak like a cold heavy soaked sponge around her body.

"Elleth," he began, his voice even, "I've taken the peace from your morning yet not your name," his eyes now darting to her full lips, "may I have it?"

The elleth turned to the side, her face flushed and burning. "Nienna, my Prince."

"Nienna," she quivered at the way it rolled off his tongue. Feeling his searing gaze on the side of her face she felt compelled to turn and look at him. When she gave in, her heart was seized by his eyes; they were like crystal blue orbs, so mesmerising.

They continued walking with tall trees looming over them on either side; as they approached the end of the path, the Elven Palace appeared at the very edge of the tree-line in all its morning glory.

"Where are your chambers," Legolas asked, "Nienna."

Legolas noticed Nienna shiver when he spoke her name the first time and was delighted when he found the effect wasn't a single occurrence.

"I reside in the palace," Nienna began, her eyes lifting shyly toward him, "on the third level."

"The palace?" He asked and Nienna nodded, "how is it that I have not seen you?"

Nienna was unsure whether she should answer, the question seemed more a personal musing until Legolas resumed his gaze on her.

"I've not often had the pleasure of leaving the palace, save the early mornings or late at night."

Another silence followed, just as deafening as the one previous. The quiet void between them was filled with unspoken thoughts, barely controlled lust and something else, something that emanated from both sides like a perfume.

Nienna shivered in the cloak, wishing it was his arms that wrapped around her, that it was his warmth that burned through her wet body. She turned to peak up at him, her green eyes following the straight lines of his face, her need caressing his cheekbones, jaw, collar bones and then her imagination caressed everything else. She dropped her gaze to where she believed his Adonis lines lay, like arrows to-

She felt it, like a burning furnace his gaze prickled on her skin and she instantly turned away. However, now the burning of his gaze morphed into the burning shame she now felt from blatantly staring at him and it.

Legolas smirked to himself, relishing in her open admiration of him but quietly enjoying breaking her innocence. Her curiosity was sparked and he knew she felt the same attraction he did but his honour fought its way to the forefront of his mind. Of all lessons he learned as an elfling, he recalled the importance of keeping pre-marital affairs as fantasies in his head for Elves mate for life and purity and marriage walk hand in hand. He would never risk her virtue but he could please her in other ways…

Time passed slowly, so slowly that it seemed still as though waiting. The morning sun floated behind the trees at the same angle, the birds chirped their tunes repeatedly like parrots and the dull air hovered stagnantly.

Before long, the palace stood towering before them, covered in twirling tree roots that formed ancient patterns, the heavy set front doors flanked by armed guards who bowed for their Prince as he approached. They walked to the third floor and down a dark corridor which held none of the grandeur Legolas' quarters held. When Nienna stopped in front of her chamber door, she looked up at him again and took the cloak off.

"Thank you, my Prince," she whispered shyly, holding up the cloak. Legolas only stared at her, her dress was still soaked, curving to her every crevice; gulping and averting his eyes upwards from her pebbling nipples he took the cloak from her. He held the drenched cloak and stepped closer to her. He noted a prominent pulsing vein in her neck that beat against her skin, he knew she felt it, the odd connection that stilled the world around them. So he cornered her so her back was against the door and lifted a piece of matted hair that clung to her face and tossed it behind her shoulder. Nienna stared into his eyes as they saw through her, delving into her green pools.

"Nienna," he said, internally smirking at her shiver, "will you be attending the Ball tomorrow?"

"No, your grace," she replied, slightly breathless, "I've not attended a Ball for a number of years."

Legolas brought his face closer to hers, his stare illuminating the depths of her body that laid dark and dormant. He pressed his taller frame on her smaller, lithe one, knowingly allowing Nienna to feel his muscled chest press against her breasts. He dipped his head and gently pressed his lips on hers, watching her eyes flutter close before leaning in.

"You are coming to the Ball tomorrow," he commanded in a husky tone. Nienna nodded, her eyes dazed and mind still swimming in the kiss.

Nienna quickly turned around, Legolas now pressing into her back, even with her hair wet from the stream she smelled unique. Nienna felt him, his hard body, and yanked the door handle down before almost falling into her chambers. She turned behind her just as he got an eyeful of her hour-glass body and looked upon him a final time before slowly closing the door. Legolas maintained eye contact until the door shut completely, his body suddenly alive with desire and he turned to walk to his chambers hurriedly. Nienna, however, leant back on the door for support, still stuck in the blue sky of his eyes.


	2. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave Kudos and PLEASE leave a comment!!! I'd like to know how you all feel about the story so far :)

Tipping his head back, his crown of spring woodland flowers mere millimetres from falling, his eyes soared into the clear blue sky. An enchanting morning Mirkwood lay before him and, at this height in the palace, the view was captivating. The tops of the trees were covered with small chirping birds that flew over the forest as far as the eye could see and the wind blew lazily, fluttering leaves as it sailed by. Behind him, a door closed softly and he turned to find a familiar young Elf with fair blonde hair walking toward him.

"Ada, 'quel amrun," the young Elf spoke affectionately with a heart-warming smile.

"Legolas," he replied, offering his own smile. He watched his son bow and take his seat at the table. Legolas noted the way his father's hair cascaded down the front of his body like white blonde waterfalls and secretly hoped for his own hair to grow to such a length.  
The dark round table was overflowing with food, from ripe berries freshly picked from the woodland to warm bread baked only moments before. He sat directly opposite Legolas and watched as his son greedily helped himself.

"Hungry, ion nin?" He asked teasingly and Legolas immediately froze, his cheeks stained red. Seeing his son squirm under his gaze, he couldn't help but laugh, Legolas was so easily embarrassed.

A rapid knock at the door drew their attention away and a female voice, muffled by the door, called out.

"King Thranduil, pardon the intrusion, I have urgent news."  
Legolas turned to his father acknowledging his suddenly grave countenance framed by thick furrowed eyebrows, a stark contrast from moments ago.

"Enter," Thranduil commanded, his voice deep and resonating.  
The door flew open and a tall she-elf marched in, her auburn hair pinned back with a single braid falling in the middle. She wore the green and silver livery of the Captain's Guard that was cinched at every curve of her body. Thranduil rose from his seat, startled that the Captain of the Guard had personally come to deliver news, usually, it was his personal advisor Maeglin.

"Tauriel, I must say I am quite surprised. But please, share what you know." Thranduil said, his face contorted with worry. Tauriel directed her pale blue eyes toward Legolas, who remained seated but facing her, with a plate full of food deliciously waiting. She felt her heart thud violently when she noticed his hair was done the way she loved it, a single braid down the middle of his gold-spun hair. It made her even happier when she realised that they were matching. The way he sat, with his back toward the window against the morning light seemed to make him look like his entire frame was illuminated like he was glowing angel.

"Tauriel?" Thranduil called. Tauriel shook her head, breaking her daze and turned to her King. She gave him a bow and another to her Prince.

"My King, there have been reports that more Orc clusters have been spotted. The numbers have been increasing drastically these past few days. I, along with several of your councillors have decided to call an emergency meeting." She stepped back towards the door. "It would be my honour to escort you."

Legolas turned to his father, his eyes wide and pleading and to this Thranduil could not escape.

"Come Legolas, I suppose you should be privy to such matters." He said as nonchalantly as possible.  
Legolas almost jumped from his seat and went to stand by Tauriel and she led them both with Legolas beside her and Thranduil taking up the rear. Every now and then she would slyly turn to look at Legolas, her eyes wondering unabashedly up and down his toned, lean body. Her brain melted in her skull at the thought of her wrapping herself around him and she had to turn away before she would be completely overwhelmed. They traversed through the many long, winding corridors of the palace in revered silence until they reached the conference chamber. Thranduil moved to stand in front of them and he entered. The council stood up and bowed together and Thranduil inadvertently nodded to his most trusted advisor Maeglin, a heavyset elf with thick brown hair, before sitting down with his advisers. Tauriel sat beside Maeglin while an excited Legolas took his place at Thranduil's right hand.

Looking at the stacks of papers in front of him, Thranduil knew that this meeting was going to be a long one.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amrun's glow fell through the pane-less windows of Nienna's chambers. Her body lay limp in her feather bed, her breathing coming out in short pants.

She rolled over onto her side clutching her chest as she heaved a cough, then another, then another. Her filmy, sheer nightgown scrunched between her breasts and wrapped around her body uncomfortably and their friction only added heat to her feverish body. Her shivering fingers tried to clutch the bed covers but the cream sheets had long tumbled from the bed into a messy pile on the floor. She groaned into the pillow at the tapping noise that filled her skull and she wished that she had been smarter.

The memory of her sitting by the door for hours after he had kissed her had allowed the water and cold to do their worst on her body as her mind occupied itself by replaying the moment over and over. Her heart still fluttered when she recalled the warm pressure of his lips then the warm pressure that built within her as she opened her eyes to meet his mesmerizing blue ones. He was entirely beautiful and the kiss was so unlike what she had known that she hardly thought she'd been kissed at all. Then her throat tickled and a new coughing fit began, it seized her body and pressed on her lungs until she felt winded.

Her beech wood bed stood high above the floor, surrounded by complementary furnishings including wall-wide bookshelves stocked with every geographical and historical book Nienna could get her hands on.

Slowly, Nienna rose from the bed and stretched her aching muscles then walked to the small kitchen where she filled a cup full of water to drink. She took absentminded sips while she wandered back into her bedroom, walking parallel against the wall of books, letting her fingers glide over them feeling their ridges and engravings. Finishing the glass, she set it on a small table next to a book she had been reading, 'Miner's Waterfall'.

It had come to her like a gift, two months ago, when perusing the South Corridor Library at night time. The vastness of the room with its tall pillared windows encased in carved tree roots and candles lit on each pillar down the room until they were little glowing specks in the distance. The Geography selection was bountiful but seemingly untouched as the books were covered in layers of dust and neglect. Nienna felt like a heroine in some way by picking up each book and wiping it down with her sleeve. Miner's Waterfall lay flat above a row of books, its title engraved in gold ink with a picture of a foamy waterfall and the path that leads behind it.

When she realised what book she had picked up, it was like unearthing a part of Rivendell; an Elvish town that was mounted upon waterfalls, overlooking Middle-Earth like a bird on its perch. She could recall the whereabouts of her own copy, in the lower shelf of her bookcase beside her old bed in her parent's house. Her parent's house in Rivendell…it seemed like a dream rather than a memory. She didn't feel like she'd ever lived there at all, these past years had changed her but Mirkwood had changed her back.

She opened the hardcover of the book and sniffed at the page, its nostalgic smell was welcomed into her nostrils like an old friend until the residual dust tickled her throat sending Nienna into another coughing fit.

Nienna felt weary and bone-tired, her shoulders sagged and the skin of her face felt like it was barely hanging onto the bones. So she picked up the bedsheets from the floor and curled into her bed with the smell of Rivendell in her nose and the warmth of Prince Legolas on her lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leading Legolas out into the dimly lit hallway, Thranduil shut the door behind him, effectively muffling the never-ending arguing of the council. Turning to lean against the dark wooden barrier, Thranduil rubbed his temples with a pained expression on his face.

"There is nothing more worrying than the realm's best advisers yelling at each other like children." Thranduil said, exasperated.

Legolas only looked upon his father, not remotely amused; the council had barely scratched the surface of a potential solution and confoundedly Legolas wondered if they would be the same under his reign.

"Perhaps…but you would be a good King," Thranduil said aloud, as though reading his son's mind, "although not as good as me."

Legolas' stone-hard expression melted into a soft smile while resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Across the shadowy distance, Thranduil assessed his son, the meeting had gone on for hours and its effects weighed on Legolas' worn face. Even in the poor lighting of the hallway, he could see the sullen, red-rimmed eyes and hunched shoulders. Slowly, Thranduil reached out and gently glided the pad of his thumb over Legolas' cheek before cupping his face. Legolas leaned into the warmth, letting it soothe the worry and stress.

"Ion nin," Thranduil began, his voice barely above a whisper, "there is another matter that needs to be addressed."

It pained Thranduil to set upon his son this task, knowing what it entailed. Nevertheless, the guilt poured into his actions. He tugged at Legolas' tunic ties, bringing him close, so close that their chests almost touched. Thranduil gazed at Legolas, who now stood but a few inches beneath him, his white-blond hair neatly plaited down the back of his head. Cupping his son's face again he stroked the curve of his cheek, watching intently as Legolas closed his eyes, then his hand moved further back, to the curve of his ear remembering how sensitive he was there. Legolas shivered at the contact, unaware of his father's ulterior motive.

Leaning forward, Thranduil's head dipped down to his son's other ear, the thrumming of Legolas' heartbeat echoing in the small space between them.

"I need you to go to the Ball." Thranduil whispered.

Legolas' head immediately snapped up and he pushed himself away from his father with a look of shock and anger.

"Ada, I cannot…cannot…feast when our borders are being breached by Orcs! I need to be here with the council!"

Legolas' voice had risen beyond what Thranduil deemed acceptable as his father and King. So when his face became a mask of barely controlled rage, Legolas silenced himself immediately.

"I decide where you need to be, I decide everything you do and don't forget it!" Thranduil's voice boomed through the hallway and suddenly the muffled shouts of the council had died down behind the closed door. "You are to do this because I command you to."

Legolas had shrunk twenty times his size beneath his father's gaze and it tugged at Thranduil's heart.

"Ion nin," he reached out and pulled Legolas into his chest in a warm embrace, "our people need us. They will already notice their King, Captain of the Guard and all the King's advisors missing."

Thranduil stroked his son's hair until he seemed to relax.

"But if their beloved Prince dined and danced among them then it shan't draw unnecessary attention to the Orc situation. We need our people to not panic."

Legolas' turned his head to look up his father, his eyes glossed over.

"I will do this task, my King." He said before breaking out of the embrace and walking down the hallway.

It pained Thranduil to see his son disappointed, knowing that he had single-handedly taken away another happiness from his son. He turned and watched the back of his son stalk away into the distance. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elegant hall was illuminated by the warm amber light of the candles that sat in polished holsters and doused the Elvish occupants in a radiant glow. The twisting tree roots that decorated the hall walls originally were draped in purple silk, a Royal symbol that was present at every Palace Ball. Despite the grandeur and regaling traditions, many felt on edge as gossip and rumour spread like wildfire. No high ranking official had made an appearance and the Elves began to sense that something was wrong.

Styled like a Prince in all Elvish finery, from the adorning silver crown on his head to the pointed leather shoes on his feet, Legolas stood out like a rose among thorns. The thorns, of course, being the elitist social elves who swarmed him at such events with the sole intent of bettering their social station; and what better way than by marriage?

Descending into the crowd with a resounding fanfare, Prince Legolas was tailed by a flock of admirers and single elleths which, of course, are one and the same. The whole hall had given him their entire attention and something about the Prince's presence seemed to ease the atmosphere. However, the only attention he truly wanted to receive was from Nienna. Sweet, beautiful, green-eyed Nienna who had kept his hands down his breeches for the better part of last night. It had, understandably, irked him that his own father sent him away from such an important meeting but realising that he was now en route to reuniting with her had quashed all disappointment.

So wading through the crowds, Legolas searched determinedly for the green-eyed beauty, the only other rose among these thorns. Dismissing the hordes of followers and encouraging them to enjoy the Ball, much to their displeasure had given him the freedom to roam the Hall. However, every corner of the room yielded no trace of her, even her scent, as unique as it was, was undetected. Lost in the large crowd of Elves he twisted his neck and coiled his back to catch even a glimpse of her. It was impossible and the thought of her actually not attending the Ball had finally crossed his mind. Had she been scared off by his kiss? Had she not felt the way he thought she did?

The urge to disappear from the room engulfed him and Legolas turned to the main doors when a familiar voice called out to him.

"My Prince! Finally, I've found you." Legolas turned slowly, begrudgingly. "You look like someone drove a cart over your face." She laughed at her own joke before handing the Prince a goblet of Elvish red wine. He glanced at the elleth before him whilst taking a large gulp from the cup. She was well dressed, which was unusual, she never wore a gown and such a pretty, tight-fitting one at that.

"Tauriel, you're actually wearing a gown!" Legolas stated, his voice in playful shock.

Tauriel blushed, her mind swimming in the fact that her Prince noticed her efforts, even if only to mock them.

"Hush Prince, I still look better than you," she teased. Legolas raised his glass but stopped short. He wondered what Nienna would have looked like in a gown, he envisioned a pretty green one to match her startling eyes. He drained his cup and went to find another before returning.

"Tauriel, why are you not at the meeting? Being Captain of the Guard, your presence to these things is a pre-requisite." Legolas asked disdainfully but Tauriel merely laughed.

"After you...left, we continued yelling at each other. The King closed the meeting and decided to fix a report with Maeglin which will take some time. He dismissed the rest of us about...oh...an hour ago."

Legolas looked about the room, seeing no sign of the high ranking advisors who were present at the meeting.

"So he forced me to come here but no one else?" He snorted into his goblet as he took another mouthful. "And you look like that after only an hour? A startling achievement!"

Tauriel blushed profusely and hid her smile by downing her wine.

"If I am not mistaken, I do believe that was a compliment, my Prince." She smirked.

Legolas waved her remark with a swish of hand and reached out for another goblet. The red, dry liquid seemed to just disappear down his throat and form a warm pressure at the bottom of his stomach. Tauriel stood by him aimlessly watching the crowds and secretly laughing at the groups of elleths that shot daggers her way. It had always bothered her that her relationship to the Prince was so widely envied. If only they knew, she wondered, to be so close to him only for him to be just as out of reach. Suddenly, the achingly smooth music lifted into a steady beat and Elves began to take their partners and begin a graceful dance. The crowds made way for the pairs to take their positions while the musicians filtered the first few notes of the melody into the buzzing night air. The pairs moved wordlessly around the room, including around their stationary Prince, moving like meandering rivers around a royal frozen rock. Legolas observed the pairs that whirled around him and the blissfully happy smiles on their faces and he began to feel the crushing pain of being rejected, for a second time. His night was laced with disappointment and he started to seek an exit. His feather bed seemed better company tonight.

Legolas reached out for another goblet and Tauriel eyed him suspiciously. She noted the sloppy manner of his grasp on the goblet and the way he tilted his head back unstably.

"My Prince, you are drunk. Perhaps another glass is too much."

"Nonsense, I drink to drown, Tauriel. I want to forget tonight and be lost in something else."

Before Tauriel even had the chance to ask what meant, Legolas made to leave, his brain swishing in his skull causing him to lose balance and topple. But he was steadied by Tauriel who had long discarded her wine goblet and was now ready to take her Prince back to his chambers before he made a fool of himself. Well-dressed Elves looked on in amusement at their inebriated Prince who swung around and dragged his feet. Tauriel cursed under her breath at the sloppy manner Legolas walked in and could almost hear the harrowing tales of their drunk Prince circulating the next day. 

"I feel like tonight went by so quickly." Legolas slurred.

"It did, you drank yourself stupid in less than an hour." Tauriel stated blandly.

Legolas stood up, leaving his hold on Tauriel and started to move up the winding stairs to his personal quarters. He suddenly recognised a corridor and remembered that he entered it yesterday when escorting Nienna back to her chambers. He made to go and explain everything, possibly apologise for the kiss but he could not lie, he could not tell her he did not mean to do it. The world started to spin and he felt his legs give out under him.

"Woah, Prince, let me take you up." Tauriel offered. Legolas looked at her confusedly.

"You're still here?" He muttered.

"You're only three floors up and I saw you swaying like a tree in the breeze, it's probably best I take you up to your room."

Leaning on Tauriel, his arm draped over her shoulders accidentally pulling on her auburn hair, he let her drag him up to the almost top floor of the palace in silence. Entering his chambers, Tauriel deposited the drunken Prince on his enormous bed before moving to kneel between his legs. Legolas looked down at Tauriel, his silver crown sliding off his head.

"You do look very pretty tonight Tauriel." He said breathlessly.

Tauriel's heart swelled in her chest and she reached up to realign his crown before it fell off completely. She was glad that the room was so dark he could not see her blush.

"Thank you, Legolas." She whispered her eyes cast to the floor. "I actually would like to tell you someth-"

*Thud*

Tauriel looked up to find the Prince had fallen back onto the bed, his eyes closed. She sighed, her own disappointment surging through her, before taking off his shoes and loosening his breeches and tunic and left. She lingered at the door, looking over the sleeping Prince and promised to tell him how she felt when he was sober.

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Yawning and stretching like an animal after hibernating, Nienna rose from her bed. Her bedroom was doused in shadow and her head swam in confusion. She suddenly scrambled out of her bed to the balcony where she was greeted by a moon drifting high in the sky, its rays bathing her skin in its white light. Her eyes roamed speckled night sky and she began to panic when she realised that she had missed the Ball. She missed him, the Prince, the Prince with eyes like the winding stream she met him at. Sighing internally she realised that she did miss him, his smile and warmth even the gentle pressure of his lips which she could feel even now. She wandered to the balcony railing and leant on it, letting the chilly night air wrap around her; she knew she had to explain to him her absence and it worried her that she disobeyed him. Would he punish her? No, he was not like that, he was not him. Shaking off the past she resumed her gaze over the forest that hid under the blanket of night, the moon and stars like the sun and birds of the morning.

A few floors up at the highest point of the Palace, a pair of curious eyes were held transfixed on the black-haired beauty below him. He stood, amazed, at the way her pale skin appeared almost translucent under the white moonlight. She wore a simple, lace nightgown that billowed between her long, slender legs. He leaned in further, his body practically balancing over the rails, his mouth parting on a soundless gasp as she turned and he saw her beautiful face. He admired her long eyelashes but longed to see her eyes, he wondered what colour they must be. She suddenly hugged herself, her arms folding in on one another as she began to shiver. It almost pained him to see her return into her room and he vowed to find her, he vowed to know her. He pushed back onto the ground and he tilted his crown before it fell off his head into the forest below. It would be a shame to lose such pretty spring flowers.


	3. Miner's Waterfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave Kudos if you enjoyed! And please leave a comment, would love to hear how you feel about this chapter :)

Gentle chirps roused the sleepy Elven King from his fitful slumber. Daybreak blurred the residual images of a raven haired temptress with pearly skin, her plump pink lips wrapped around his swollen member. This sole image had his arousal jutting out from his body creating a tent under the bed sheets and Thranduil rolled out of the bed to walk off his predicament. Wandering through his chambers, he spotted a large painting of himself and his wife, his son's mother. She wore a pleasantly fitted white gown with a bouncing Legolas on her lap. The vivid detail of the painting reeled in old memories from hundreds of years ago, her white blond hair, much like his own, swishing behind her as he chased after his devious little wife. He smiled sadly at the memory, knowing that her absence has caused so much pain for him, for their son. Thranduil had promised her, the last time they spoke, her eyes rimmed with unshed tears.

"When I'm gone, you have to be both of us for Legolas." Her voice cracked at the mention of her son, "you have to be strong yet loving. Firm but caring. A father and a mother."

Thranduil shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the memory but he knew she was right. Legolas needed both kinds of love and he could not deliver. Thranduil grew up without a mother and he knew the implications and feelings and needs that a motherless child requires. But how can an Elf who grew up without a mother's love, give a mother's love? He knew the answer and felt guilty that he let his wife go, effectively stopping the potential happiness only a mother can give.

How can he be a mother, father and most of all, a King? Disappointing Legolas by sending him away from the council meeting was another blow to his parenting skills. Thranduil fell back on his mattress, his erection long gone. This elleth he saw on the balcony was a distraction from what needs to be done. Legolas needs both parents so he does not end up like his father, alone and broken. To be both parents, Thranduil had to be caring and loving but strong and firm.

Thranduil called upon his valet and was quickly bathed and dressed for the day. Fardir, the valet, had aptly informed his king that a certain Elf Prince had drunk too much last night before the Captain of the Guard rescued him from public humiliation. Sighing, Thranduil ordered a cup of White Remedy to be sent to Legolas to soothe the inevitable hangover and sent a message for him to not bother coming to breakfast, if he even wakes up early enough to have it. Firm but caring.

Heading off to his private solar, the King erased all thoughts of this tempting mistress and threw himself into his days' work.

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He inhaled deeply, the curious mix of woodland flowers and something sweet wafted deep into his nose.

"Nienna." He whispered, turning toward the smell. He dug his nose in the source of the scent, the grainy material rubbing against his skin.

"Huh?" He muttered when he opened his eyes and realised that he was nuzzling his green outdoor cloak. Sighing he rolled over, flipping his fair hair away from his face, when all of a sudden a splitting headache wracked through him. It throbbed in his skull and Legolas had to bite his lip to hold the scream of pain that threatened to escape. He grasped his pounding head, willing the pain to subside when he noticed a tall glass filled with a cloudy liquid sitting atop his bedside table. Sitting up, he picked up the glass and found a note under it.

Prince Legolas,

Please accept The White Remedy from his Royal Highness for your current ailment. He also sends his regrets that he cannot break the fast with you this morning.

Kindest Regards

Fardir, on behalf of His Royal Highness, King Thranduil

Sighing, Legolas downed the glass and set it aside, tossing the note onto the floor. His headache began to fade and Legolas internally thanked his father for the remedy and letting him sleep in; he considered that it must be his father's way of apologising. Sighing, Legolas glanced behind him to the green cloak laying crumpled between the sheets. It had stayed there after it dried and he used it for...recreational purposes in his bed. Leaning over the mattress he brought the material to his nose and sniffed deeply. The mere fibres of the fabric were permeated with her delicious smell which brought back memories of last night. The crippling disappointment of her absence washed over him like a wave and he wished he hadn't raised his hopes like that.

Stifling his feelings, Legolas rose from the bed, daylight streamed through the windows and Legolas caught his reflection in the mirror. His tunic and breeches were loosened, his shoes were strewn on the floor and his silver crown lost among the bed sheets.

Tauriel

It wasn't the first time she had to prep him for bed and he was grateful for her. He manoeuvred his way around his room when he noticed a thick booklet sitting on his table. Picking it up he saw the typical markings of a patrol report, probably a product of yesterday's meeting.

Skimming through the pages he noted he was put for patrol duty tomorrow night before closing it and dropping it back onto the table.

Legolas stood still in his bed-chamber, his eyes focused on a point on the other side of the room as his mind began to wander. The empty glass, Fardir's note, his cloak and the patrol report seemed to fade as if he hadn't just interacted with them. He envisioned a stream, long and winding, that meandered through tall beech trees. In front of him was a black-haired elleth whose wet dress clung to her every curvature, her startled green eyes tucked under a fringe of dark lashes.

"Nienna." He murmured and the delicious smell of her cascaded around him, pouring over his body like a waterfall.

Returning to reality, the forest outside filled with the soft chirping of birds, Legolas realised something. There was no elleth, in all Middle Earth, who had captivated him so and he would fight for her, until she was his.

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Standing before Nienna's door, Legolas held his clenched fist mere millimetres away from the wood. He inhaled deeply, astounded that her unique scent lingered even outside her chambers, and marvelled at its smell. Legolas' fist trembled, worried about how his presence affected her. She was afraid of him yesterday, will she feel the same today? Nervously, he pressed a pointed ear against the door and heard muffled footsteps accompanied by some faint humming. Closing his eyes, Legolas focused on the bright, lilting sound of her voice as she sang an unfamiliar tune.

He pushed back off the door and gathered strength. If he wanted her, he was going to get her.

*Knock knock*

The humming halted immediately, followed by shuffling and the clink of a door handle being pulled down.

Legolas wished he'd braced himself as he looked upon Nienna. Her hair, now dry, hovered about her face like a black cloud with deep green eyes piercing through. Her luscious pink lips were slightly parted in surprise but it was Legolas who was truly shocked. Shocked that he was ever going to give up on such a beautiful elleth.

"I've never heard that tune," Legolas said, feigning confidence, "Is it Elvish?"

"My Prince!" Nienna said with a quick courtesy, her heart pounding in her ears. "It's a song of the Rohirrim. Lady in the Field, I believe."

Legolas nodded in assent. Nienna stood to the side in a silent permission for the Prince to enter, her heart still thudding violently. This was it, the moment he punished her for disobeying him. She did not attend the Ball as he had asked and now she was going to pay for it. She knew the protocol but she was still wary, her fear evident on her pale face.

"Nienna," he said and pushed through the door into her humble living room. A set of padded wooden benches surrounding a brick fireplace with walls lined with books.

"You've taken up residence in a library?" Legolas joked. Nienna blushed and dipped her head in embarrassment.

"I've been fond of books, mainly geographical ones, since I was a child."

Legolas nodded and turned toward the elleth. Nothing would have prepared him for the sight of her red-stained cheeks and glassy green eyes. Her lithe body draped in a pleated sheer material that seemed to float around her. Trying to maintain some composure, Legolas stepped forward toward her.

"You did not attend the Ball last night." Legolas stated, his voice stern. Nienna bent her head in fear of his tone. His gaze penetrated through her, he could hear her shallow, fearful breathing and knew she was afraid; he couldn't stand seeing her like that.

"Do you..did you not want my kiss?" His demeanour had faltered incredibly, the doubts and insecurities borne of last night now plain to see for Nienna. Taken aback by his almost pleading tone, she struggled to find a suitable response. Did he not want to punish her?

"My Prince, I was too ill to attend. My..our," Nienna struggled to find the right words to use, she did not want to irritate him and worsen her punishment, which she was sure to come. "The..um…dip in the stream caused my malady."

Legolas stayed silent, contemplating her response.

"Why did you not dry off? A simple remedy to that situation."

"I..I wanted to but your kiss distracted me so…" Nienna said, her voice barely above a whisper. She waited for him to get angry, raise his voice and hurt her.

"Why did my kiss distract you?" He asked, swallowing in anticipation of her answer. Nienna looked up, her face a picture of confusion. Was this a trick?

"Because I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Legolas released a breath he did not know he was holding. Nienna watched him carefully, his reaction was strange, unpredictable and it set her on edge. As a few moments passed, Legolas burst into a fit of laughter. Nienna grew wide-eyed and afraid.

"My Prince, I did not mean to offend you, if I co-,"

"Offend me? Oh, Nienna, you have no idea what kind of hell you put me through when you did not attend last night. I thought…well it does not matter what I thought, it was misinformed. I am glad you enjoyed my kiss." He said with a grin.

"My apologies, your Grace, I will no-."

"Nienna," an involuntary shudder passed through her and Legolas internally smirked, "I would like the pleasure of taking you to the forest today."

Nienna stayed silent, confused by his reaction.

"You are not angry with me?"

"No Nienna, no. I do not think I could ever be angry with you."

Glancing to her small table, beside a ceiling-high bookcase, lay the engraved cover of The Miner's Waterfall. Its location was a little far out from the Palace but Nienna knew with every ounce of her being that the trip would be worth it.

"If possible, my Prince," she muttered, her eyes cast to the ground, "I would like to visit the Miner's Waterfall."

Legolas did not reply and when Nienna looked up at him, he seemed as though he was calculating something, weighing up options.

"Yes, it can be possible," he replied half-heartedly, "pack a picnic and we shall make a day of it."

Nienna responded with a full-blown grin and Legolas could not help but return it, despite the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

"I'll come back in an hour, I will need to attend to something urgent first."

He took a tentative step forward but Nienna did not move. He leaned in slowly, his piercing blue gaze locked on her deep jade pools. Just a hair's breadth away from their lips touching, her eyes closed, lips puckered in anticipation.

"You are so beautiful, Nienna." He whispered before pressing his lips against hers. She moved forward, deepening the kiss, relishing in its warmth. Her hands snaked their way up his lean body to wrap around his neck while he joined his hands at the small of her back. Her slender fingers tangled themselves in his hair, the silky strands twirling around her wandering digits. Their kiss melted into an all-encompassing embrace, their laboured breaths filling the distance between them.

"Legolas..." She purred and she felt his body shiver.

"Yes, Nienna, I want you to always say my name like that."

Nienna blushed and turned her gaze to the floor.

"I should prepare lunch, I'll see you in an hour." She said breathlessly, unhooking her hands from his hair.

Legolas nodded before turning to leave; as he closed the door he smiled to himself.

Soon, he thought, soon she will be mine.

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The walk was long and tedious accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of Legolas' sword against his hip. The sun was high in the sky and breeched the treetops with all its might, littering little specks of light on the forest floor. Nienna kept remembering the kiss and was still swimming in the after-effects, the warmth surrounding her like his cloak.

Soon they passed a clearing, encircled in thick brush very similar to their cove by the stream and the pair glanced slyly at each other at the memory of their meeting before falling in a fit of laughter.

"My Princ-."

"Please, call me Legolas!" He said, exasperated.

"Sorry, Legolas, what were you doing in that tree?" She asked.

"I was walking back from a patrol and I saw you. You looked like you were asleep so I just wanted to see you without...disturbing you." He said with a smile and Nienna followed.

"If that's how you don't disturb people then I'd love to see when you do!" She laughed and Legolas playfully nudged her.

They reached the other end of the clearing and into a narrow path densely lined with greenery. Legolas had to pull out a small dagger to cut through the branches to make a clearer path. The gentle splashing of water over rocks started to amplify around her and Nienna curled her toes in excitement.

When they broke through the path all they could see was the waterfall as it stretched from edge to edge, pouring over tall, smooth grey rocks. They stood in awe of its beauty, pretty white flowers grew in dotted places in the cracks between the rocks and the small rock pool surrounding the waterfall was a deep, glassy blue. Nienna's breath caught in her throat, the sheer size of the waterfall was completely unexpected and the splashing of water hitting rock reminded her of Rivendell, of home. Recalling the book, Nienna walked toward the waterfall's edge, bending low as if looking for something, her black hair creating a curtain around her face.

"Nienna, careful!" He yelled.

"Legolas, the path! It goes behind the waterfall!" She yelled in return. Grasping his wrist, she pulled him along the path as it snaked behind the waterfall. The uneven steps were difficult to walk over but she didn't care because they were getting close. Up ahead was the infamous glimmer that she had read about in the book, its telltale amber shine lighting the space between the water and rocky wall. Her eyes grew wider at the mythical glow as they passed further behind the water, little droplets dropping on their heads.

"See!" She pointed toward the red and amber glowing that grew the more they walked toward it, "this is why they call it the Miner's Waterfall! There are rubies and topazes embedded into the walls!"

They stood at the mouth of the cave, entranced by the luminescent glowing of the gems, with the cascading waterfall pouring behind them and their hands entwined. Legolas recognised the cave instantly, but knew the cave under a different name, Gael Lanthir. He remembered coming here with Tauriel when they were young. Nienna turned to Legolas, distracting him from his reminiscing, her heart thudding from the excitement at visiting a treasured monument in Middle Earth's geography and felt as though she were having an epiphany. He came to her, sweet and caring and he never wanted to hurt her. It was a strange feeling, not being afraid, it gave her hope.

"I can smell 'em." Someone yelled, its voice was gravelly and it resonated through the cave. "Little Elves, I can smell 'em."

Nienna turned to Legolas, wide-eyed with fear. "What is that?" She asked.

Gripping the handle of his sword, he replied, "Orcs."

The sound of the heavy footfall of the orcs thundered through the cave and Legolas pushed Nienna behind him, pressing her into the walls where she could feel the strong vibration of their movements. His long, muscled torso pressed against her breasts, his taut buttocks nestled into the cradle of her hips. He kept pushing back until all Nienna could focus on was the searing heat of his body that now was engulfing her. This heat was so familiar, accompanied by his musky, heady scent, it roused a fierce longing inside her. It started an insatiable rush that had laid dormant for eight months but it surged through her as if nothing had changed.

"Legolas...", said Nienna breathlessly, "I can't… please..."

She clamped her legs together, her wanton body readying itself like always.

"Legolas!" She pleaded.

"Nienna, I will protect you, please trust me." Legolas replied and Nienna internally crumbled. She did not want his body to protect her at this current moment.

They stayed in this same position until the marching subsided and the only sounds in the cave were their laboured breathing. He pushed off of her and in turn picked her up from the wall where she looked as though she was in terrible pain.

"Are you unhurt?" He asked. Nienna only managed to nod in return, her body warm and demanding to be filled.

"They must have moved on, we should move too." He tugged her wrist and they fell into a full sprint. Nienna struggled to keep up, his long legs creating too wide strides. Passing silently under the waterfall back down the path, Nienna looked behind her one time to see the faint glow of the gems a final time. They headed in the direction of the palace and when they reach a familiar clearing Legolas halted. He noted the tracks on the ground, the grass was disturbed and flattened, an obvious sign that the Orc group had passed through recently. Legolas grasped the thick handle of his sword and unsheathed it, the blade glinting in the light. Nienna, burning with the embers of her arousal, was momentarily taken aback by the sword. Obviously Elvish with inscriptions lining the cool metal from edge to edge, a bespoke sword for a worthy swordsman.

All at once, the brush surrounding the clearing began to rustle and a malicious laugh resounded through the small space. Nienna eyed the opening at the far side and nudged Legolas, hinting the way out to him. He grabbed Nienna again and scurried to the opening when an oversized, sweaty orc with a head shaped like a ginger root jumped from the brush and blocked their exit.

"He wasn't lying, there is a pretty little elf girl!" He yelled to the supposedly empty clearing as he ran his eyes unabashedly over Nienna's body. The action was enough to have Nienna imagining the ugly orc thrusting deep into her, feral moans ripped from his disfigured throat with her lying completely at his will. She turned away from the orc's gaze, her thoughts turning into unabated lustful desires.

"See, I gots a good eye," another orc from their right said as he came out of the brush, "look at her mouth, it would look good around my cock."

Nienna felt overwhelmed by the fresh surge of imagery, she could feel the orc's thick head plunging into her wet, hot mouth. She saw his impatient face when she looked upwards as he tried to push himself deeper; the action felt so real that Nienna gagged behind Legolas, her throat closing in on itself. No..no, not now…Nienna fought the internal battle with herself, she was different now, she knew better.

"See, Orc, she finds you revolting. Now step away before I kill you." Legolas stated, his sword raised high, poised for attack.

Suddenly more orcs came forth from the brush, until there was a pack of seven of them all forming a circle around the two elves. Nienna clutched onto Legolas' tunic, a soft prayer on her lips, when the ginger root orc lunged at them. Legolas threw himself in front of Nienna, blocking the orc from touching her. Their swords met with a loud clang as both amassed as much strength to throw the other off but Legloas swung his leg out to trip the orc before slitting his throat.

"Leave us be and I shall let you live," promised Legolas as he inched forward to the gap in the clearing, tugging Nienna with him but the orcs followed.

"Killing him made us more bloodthirsty, elf, you can't fight all of us. Give us the pretty thing and you just might leave with your life." A tall pale orc countered before five orcs descended on them. Legolas pushed Nienna behind him and engaged with the orcs, swinging his sword with accuracy and delivering killing strokes quickly. Nienna stood mesmerised by his skill, she knew the Prince would have had the best training but to see him in action was enthralling. Suddenly, a large hand covered Nienna's mouth and a body pressed behind her.

"He'll be busy awhile, he won't notice." Nienna confusedly looked behind her before she felt it. His hard, stocky cock dug into her back and it elicited the most instinctual act to her Elvish body. She grinded on him. The orc released a guttural moan, moving his hips in return when Nienna used this distraction to bite down on the Orc's hand and break out of his grip. The orc roared angrily and grabbed his sword then hit her across the head with the handle. Nienna fell to the floor dazedly and the orc grabbed her legs, wrenching them open with ease.

"Pretty elf wants to play games," he said untying his fly, pulling out his semi-erect penis, "so why don't you play with this?"

Nienna struggled but her earlier arousal still lingered between her legs and when the orc ran his deformed fingers through her slick channel, he laughed smugly.

"I got myself a pretty little Elvish whore." He muttered to himself and as he readied his stance to enter the semi-conscious elleth, Legolas appeared and sliced open the orc's throat.

"Scum." He mumbled. He threw the orc off Nienna's body and kneeled over her, his gold spun hair falling around his face.

"Nienna? Can you hear me?" He shook her and Nienna rolled her eyes from side to side, trying to evade the darkness but eventually gave in.

"Nienna, no!" Legolas cried but before he could think of helping her a strong blow struck him off his feet and Legolas immediately engaged the culprit. Legolas lunged at the orc but his sword was blocked, the impact sending a strangling pain through his wrist. Switching the sword to his other hand, Legolas sliced through the air to impale the orc and lowered his sword, letting its twitching body slide off the blade into a pool of blood on the floor. He rubbed his wrist which felt like it was inflaming and turned to Nienna who lay lifeless on the ground behind him. Slowly, Legolas lifted the elleth, wincing at the pain in his wrist and began running toward the palace.

"Nienna, stay with me." he pleaded, his wounded wrist bearing her delicate weight and every slight movement it made caused him to wince. "We're almost there." He said, more to himself than her.

The forest was thickening, which was a good sign, the Elves liked to keep their borders hidden so as to not attract unwanted attention. If there was one thing that could describe wood-elves, it was their hostility to strangers. Finding a break in the bush, Legolas waded through and the palace was now in full view.

Thranduil hurried through the Palace doors with guards flanking him. His face a mask of worry and fear, he saw his son, his fair hair bobbing toward them, holding a familiar elleth in his arms.


	4. Special Attention

"Your Majesty, YOUR MAJESTY!" Screamed a thick-muscled, long haired elf as he slammed open the door.

"I swear Maeglin, I'll cut you if you barge in here like that again." Thranduil's voice faltered when he saw the grave look upon his advisor's face.

"What happened to him?" Thranduil said, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach. His mind conjuring images of a fair haired elf whose face was covered in blood calling out for his father. "Where is he?" He asked more urgently.

"He was spotted by scouts engaging with an Orc group, they assume he'll be arriving through the South Entrance."

Immediately forgetting the stacks of paperwork on his desk, Thranduil exited his solar in a hurry, yelling at Maeglin to call for armed guards to meet him at the South Entrance and to prepare a Healing Station. Thranduil ran down the stairs and flew down corridors, his robe flapping behind him, the nightmarish thought of his son wounded breaking his heart.

"My King!" A redheaded elleth called, "please wait!"

Thranduil only spared a glance at her before nodding at her to keep up.

"Tauriel this is no concern of yours." He said sternly.

"As the Captain of the Guard, the security of my Prince is my priority." Thranduil rolled his eyes at her answer, he was not fooled by it.

They both hurried to the entrance and Thranduil burst through the doors, the guards he ordered following him out and flanked him, their swords poised for attack. There in front of them, Legolas slowly limped toward them holding an unconscious elleth whose raven hair tumbled over Legolas' arm, almost touching the ground. Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as he recalled the same dark hair fluttering in the wind last night, the same face staring out into his kingdom.

"Get Rumil for Legolas and Larien for the elleth." Thranduil ordered to Maeglin who belatedly joined them at the entrance, huffing as if out of breath.

"But Larien is your personal healer my Ki-."

"Get her now." Thranduil's voice commanded.

"Legolas!" Tauriel yelled as she rushed over to the limping Prince.

"Who's this?" As she approached him she could barely mask the jealousy when she set her eyes on the lifeless body of the beautiful elleth.

"Take her quickly!" Legolas pushed Nienna into Tauriel's unsuspecting arms, her gaze still stuck on the pretty heart-shaped face of the elleth. "She needs help Tauriel, hurry!

Reinforcing her hold on the elleth, Tauriel turned back to the Palace under the fixated gaze of the King who did not particularly seem to be looking at her. Tauriel was ferried into a Healer's Station where she carefully deposited the body on a make-shift bed. The elleth's body lay flaccid on the thin mattress, her raven hair fanned around her face, her rose bud lips slightly apart. Tauriel angrily turned away, the thought of the pretty elleth and Legolas together made her heart clench.

"My Lady," a light, feminine voice called at the entrance to the Station.

"Larien?" Tauriel asked, shock evident on her face as she took in the lean elleth with inky hair that glimmered under the candle light.

"I was summoned by His Grace but if you could excuse me, I'd like to see my patient." Tauriel moved to the side, her hair swishing behind her as she did so. Larien set up her equipment, removing vials and beakers from a square leather case she was holding.

"Uh," Legolas groaned from the Station on the other end of the Hall, his voice echoing across the walls.

"Legolas," Tauriel cried out and she made to leave when she remembered the unconscious elleth and resumed her place beside her.

"Go Tauriel, I can manage from here." A stocky voice ordered, Tauriel looked up to see Maeglin leaning against the frame of the privacy stand. "Go." He urged.

Tauriel nodded in assent and turned to look at the elleth one more time, cursing her before she went to Legolas.

She stood staring at the Elven Prince as he breathed deeply while Rumil, the healer, pressed his knobbly fingers against specific places on his chest.

"Release," Rumil instructed and Legolas exhaled slowly. Rumil lifted the Prince's wrist, the skin around the bone was red and swollen with rivulets of blood seeping from a small cut. He began to take a long white piece of tape and dipped it in a bowl of green liquid with a feint decaying smell before wrapping it around the Prince's wrist.

"My Prince, your wrist has not suffered greatly and I estimate it shall be fully recovered before the night is out. Remove the tape in the morning before you take a bath."

Tauriel released a breath she did not know she was holding but her heart still thudded violently in her chest.

"If you could excuse me, I need to fetch a certain solution to seal the cut on your arm. Orc blades are very tricky." Rumil added with a throaty laugh before leaving the Station.

"How is she?" Legolas asked immediately after the healer left. Tauriel was taken aback by his question, her body stunned into silence. "Answer me!" He ordered.

"She is with Maeglin and Larien." Tauriel mumbled.

"Larien?" Legolas questioned and Tauriel nodded, "Your father asked her specifically."

They shared a look of questioning and laughed at their mutual thought before falling into silence.

"Who is she?" Tauriel blurted out after a while, "Were you playing the hero for a damsel in distress?" She added when Legolas did not reply, her mind reeling at the thought of her.

"You can't save everyone Legolas. You are a Prince and gallivanting around Mirkwood like that is stupid and reckless; your life is worth more than a thousand of hers."

Legolas' eyes snapped up to Tauriel's, a burning rage swirled within his blue depths.

"Enough!" Legolas bellowed, loose hairs falling across his head. "You're right, I am a Prince. Your Prince to be exact so this disrespect ends now."

"My apologies Prince...I just," Tauriel blathered and she reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face but he slapped her hand away. Her rejected hand hovered between them and the gravity of her actions suddenly became clear. "I'll just be leaving, get better soon."

Tauriel scurried out of the room, her red hair swishing behind her with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"You did not need to be so harsh, ion nin." Spoke a deep voice from the entrance of the Healer's Station. Legolas turned away from his father, ashamed. Thranduil's towering frame moved towards his son, his tall pointed crown only adding to his intimidating appearance.

"What happened Legolas?" Thranduil asked, "Yesterday we were in a meeting about increased Orc traffic and you do what?" His voice rose considerably, shrinking the other fair haired elf to the size of a dwarf. "Orcs are pushing our borders and you leave the Palace without telling anyone!"

Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration. "And you wanted to stay for the rest of the meeting." A humourless laugh escaped his lips. "You haven't learnt anything have you?"

Opening his eyes he looked upon Legolas and saw his head bead down and back hunched over. Seeing his son like this tore him open and a lilting voice breached through his mind.

"Firm but caring. A father and a mother."

"Ion nin," Thranduil pulled Legolas into his chest, his son's face buried into his robes. "I could have lost you today and that very thought..." Thranduil exhaled deeply then bent his neck to kiss the crown of his son' head. "I cannot bear the thought." He whispered.

Legolas reached around and clutched onto his father's robes with his good hand and lost himself in Thranduil's scent. They held their embrace for what seemed like an eternity until they heard some rustling.

"Pardon the intrusion, my King." They broke apart instantly, Thranduil readjusted his crown and moved aside for Rumil to work. Legolas' blush burned on his cheeks but his Healer did not seem to notice.

"This solution will destroy any poison that Orc blade cut you with." Rumil mentioned before applying it onto a rag and spreading it over the wound. Legolas flinched at the contact, the solution felt like a pinch on his skin.

"Legolas, I see that you are well. Come to breakfast tomorrow morning and we can talk about what happened today." Legolas nodded and Thranduil walked away, thanking the Valar for keeping his son safe.

He inhaled deeply, awe-struck at the very impossibility of her beauty. Even close up he could find no imperfection with her except the purple bruise she sported on her forehead; she had clear pearly white skin with silky black hair that fanned around her face and it made her look like she was sleeping on the night sky. Her long dark eyelashes; pale red cheeks and slightly parted lips only added to her allure. He walked toward her, his interest piqued again.

"What is her name?" Thranduil asked with feigned nonchalance.

"Nienna, my King," Maeglin replied, his eyes never leaving the elleth.

"Has her family been alerted?" Maeglin broke away from Nienna to look at the King.

"She has no family." The graveness of his tone caused Thranduil to fall into silence, he was taken aback by the answer and before he could question it further, Larien spoke.

"She will be fine. I expect her to wake up sometime tonight. Aside from that I am finished here, good day, Your Grace." She said curtly which a small bow and exited the station.

Thranduil moved closer to the elleth, careful to restrain the need to touch her sleeping form.

"Who is she?" He mumbled, more to himself.

"Nienna came to the Palace almost a year ago with a letter from Elrond and practically no possessions except a small trinket and some food. Her letter was authentic and stated that she is Lord Elrond's ward. So I prepared accommodation here at the Palace and told her to stay as long as she likes." Maeglin stroked his beard, reminiscing in the memory of the dishevelled elleth whose torn clothes made her look ungraceful and dirty but even then, her beauty shone through. "She goes out on her own quite frequently but usually in the early mornings and late evenings so I don't know why she was out at this time of day. She must've run into an Orc pack, it's a good thing Legolas saved her although he never said what he was doing out there in the first place." Maeglin rambled.

"I will ask him that tomorrow but thank you for your help Maeglin." The advisor took this as his dismissal and left the Station.

"Nienna," Thranduil whispered to the elleth, tasting her name on his lips. He bent over, trying to get closer to her until her soft breathing blew on his face. Thranduil inhaled her scent and was immediately intoxicated, she smelled sweet and different and it was utterly refreshing and...arousing.

"Ada."

Thranduil suddenly straightened up and turned to the entrance where Legolas stood, his bandaged wrist by his side.

"I can stay with her," Legolas offered and he entered the Station holding a stool with his good arm. "You don't have to burden yourself."

Thranduil smiled at his son's concern for the elleth, "I shall see you tomorrow." He said before hurriedly leaving.

Legolas moved closer to the bed, staring at an unconscious Nienna, waiting for her to wake up.

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"No please...I don't want you to..." She begs, tears streaming down her terrified face. Her arms are cuffed and hoisted up, her legs are spread and chained to the ground so that she stood like a vertical X. The dark room illuminates when a single candle is lit and placed on a rickety table, the flame doesn't burn bright enough to reveal his smirking face.

"Erynien." He said with a coarse, reverberating voice.

"That is not my name! You have the wrong elleth!" She pleaded, her eyes glossing over with more tears. The man turned away, his frustration with the elleth overflowing in his mind.

"ERYNIEN!" He roared then whirled around and slapped her. "Ya love me!'Ave they taken that from ya as well?"

Her head lolled to the side, the sting of the slap fizzling on her skin. She couldn't answer him, he never believed her. The man reached into his pocket and presented a vial filled with a murky liquid. He removed the stopper which released a putrid smell into the room.

"Drink it Ery, it will help me make you remember," He brought the vial to her cracked lips, she struggled her head away, moving her lips from side to side but he quickly pinched her sensitive nipple and poured the liquid in her mouth as she yelled out in pain. She coughed and spluttered but she could feel the viscous fluid moving down her throat. Its effects were almost immediate, she felt her limbs sag until they were pulling on the chains; she could barely keep herself up. Then she heard the sound of clothes rustling and her cuffs opening. He laid her down and tore open her skirt then her small clothes.

"No..." she whispered, her mind swimming and blurring.

"I love you and you love me and this is what people in love do."

Nienna gasped as she woke up, her eyes darting around the dark room. The lingering smell of potions triggering fear in her body.

"Erir." She whispered frantically.

"Hmm?" A voice murmured and Nienna saw a blonde-haired elf leaning on her make-shift bed, his head resting atop his arms. "Nienna?" He sat up straight when he saw she was awake and suddenly brought his face to hers in a passionate kiss. Surprised, Nienna sat paralyzed but his lips felt warm and inviting that she melted into his embrace. When they finally broke apart, panting and unbearably hot, they stared at each other. A look passed between them which was a mixture of relief, lust and...hope.

"You've been asleep for so long," He whispered. Nienna wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. She loved how he felt, his muscular body felt solid and hard under her soft touch. She revelled in the fact he stayed with her, a kindness she had not experienced in some time and she felt her heart swell in her chest, her arms never wanting to let go.

"Legolas..." She whispered into his skin, her voice almost a sob. He held her back and rocked her into his chest whilst gently stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

"We're safe Nienna, they can't hurt us." Legolas would never know how truly comforting those words were to Nienna. After some time, she slowly peeled herself away from Legolas.

"Take me to my chambers, please."

"Nienna," he whispers but he doesn't delight in her involuntary shiver, "Larien has not discharged you, I cannot let you leave when I don't know that you're completely well."

He lifted his hand to touch the now yellowing bruise on her forehead, his thumb stroking the smooth, injured skin. She leans into his hand, a welcome warmth ignites through her but the wafting scent of medicine and potions are too pungent to ignore.

"Please," she pleads, her eyes glossing over, "the smell...I can't take it."

Her voice now wracked with sobs, Legolas agreed. It pained him to see how hurt she was and he realised that there was so much more to this elleth than what meets the eye. He took her delicate hand and guided her through the palace, their fingers entwined. As they walked, Nienna's mind whirled with thoughts, her sole focus trained on Legolas' hand in hers. She could not fathom how different he is, how different he acts.

When they arrive at Nienna's door, they share a sly smile at the memory of their first kiss and the problems it caused. It was strange to think that it was only yesterday.

"Goodnight, Nienna," Legolas kissed her bruised forehead and waited for her to enter her chambers. She pulled down the handle and cross the threshold into her small living space, the room doused in shadow. The smell of potions still lingered around her, even her clothes smelled like an apothecary's and Nienna could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest, and she could almost hear him screaming for her. Erynien! Erynien!

"Wait!" Nienna called frantically, "don't...don't leave me alone..."

She turned to him, tears rolling down her cheeks. He rushed to her and enveloped her in his arms, soothing and wiping her tears away. When her sobbing subsided, he broke away and looked at her sullen face.

"I shall stay," he said. She looked up at him and smiled, relief washing over her and she guided the Prince to her bed chamber. The dark room was hard to navigate but Nienna took both his hands and pulled him through the room, remembering all the obscure places she left her book piles and luring him around them. When they finally reached the bed, they stood facing each other at the side of the bed.

"I sleep here," she said.

Nienna trailed her finger down the front of her dress searching for the tie. Slowly pulling it, the string undid itself and she let the material fall to the floor. The whoosh of the material falling to the floor alerted Legolas to Nienna's actions and his imagination began to run wild. Next, she unfastened the clasp of her skirt, the click of the metal and familiar whoosh caused an itch in his palm. Was she naked? He wanted to touch her, to find out for himself and that thought alone hardened him. Then she unbuttoned her tunic, her breathing intensifying until it hung loosely on her shoulders.

"Take it off," he instructed, his voice breathless. The whoosh of material, now the most satisfying noise he'd ever heard, filled the room and now he was sure she was naked.

"It's cold," she commented and Legolas had to bite back a groan at the thought of her pebbling nipples poking out into the space between them. Nienna reached up, her fingers exploring the expanse of his chest for the string ties of his clothes. Her nimble fingers glided on him and her soft touch was sweet torture and he was internally begging for more. She tugged on the ties and pulled before lifting the tunic off of his body. Next was his sword belt, the buckle of which rested on something hard and Legolas was dying at the thought of her touching it, even an accidental brush of her fingers might set him off. But Nienna knew, she'd been trained and restricted her wandering digits so that they only undid the leather belt and touched nothing else. Legolas released a strained breath, his heart rate thudding in his ears. When the thud of the sword hitting the floor reverberated through the room, something in the room changed, the knowledge that the only piece of clothing between them was his breeches.

Take it off, he internally pleaded, I want you to take it off.

But the rustling of bed sheets signified Nienna was in her bed and a gentle patting sound beckoned him to join her.

"Goodnight, Legolas, " she purred, the scent of her hitting him like a wave when his head hit her sheets and he was sure that he wouldn't sleep well that night.


	5. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! This is the last chapter that was written before the story was taken down in 2014 - so future chapters will sound/look a little different.

As the warm Mirkwood glow settled on Nienna's pale skin, Legolas lay in awe; her sleeping form laying identically to the morning they met. Suddenly, his awe morphed into anger at the memory of her lifeless body under the stocky Orc who sought to have his way with her and Legolas clenched his jaw in fury. The idea of anything harming her was abhorrent to him. And yet, the exact opposite thought, the possibility of someone else saving her had the same effect. He carefully wrapped an arm around her, careful to remain above the bed sheet and resumed his gaze on her pretty face.

Nienna could feel his steady gaze and occasionally felt it fall from her unmoving eyes to her lips then down the arc of her throat before resuming their position on her face. It was admirable, she thought, that Legolas showed so much restraint even as she feigned unconsciousness while she lay naked mere inches from him. His actions rekindled the hope she held onto when she arrived at Mirkwood.

Chirping birds soared over Mirkwood, under a fierce blue sky that stretched for miles and keeping with the printanier spell of the past few days. Nienna, fully conscious of Legolas' muscled arm encircling her waist from the side, felt his exquisite warmth and nearness to her unbridled body which made her feel protected and a familiar languor fell on them.

"Are you awake, my Prince?" She asked softly after a few moments.

"I am."

Sweet silence followed before Nienna rolled under his arm to face him. His gaze, the only other pair of eyes she's ever woken up to, possessed not the misery of Him but her salvation in the bottomless depths of those blue eyes.

She knew, her nakedness discomfited him but his will was strong; and in that moment, like a ray of light breaking through a cloud, she understood something. Legolas was not Him. He was the antithesis.

"You saved me." Said Nienna.

Legolas gave a small smile, "it was only seven Orcs."

He brought his hand to her face and she didn't flinch away, he would not hurt her. He brushed away a stray black lock and tucked it behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her. It was sweet and gentle, it was so Legolas and she accepted him of her own volition.

Her hand snaked under the sheets to the apex of his thighs and her fingers began to fumble with the opening of his breeches. She was no stranger to the criss-cross of those laces but this was different, this time it was her choice. A large hand wrapped warningly around her wrist and Nienna looked up unto his confused face.

"I don't expect you to do…anything." He said reassuringly but Nienna only smiled.

"I know." She replied before kissing him and resuming her ministrations under the covers.

When his laces gave way, she drew his manhood from his breeches, its length already hardened at her touch. He pulled her lithe body closer to his, her breasts pressed against the muscled wall of his chest. Her hand pumped his arousal while the tip of her thumb smeared the little drops of cum over the head and Legolas groaned into her mouth.

"Nienna…" He whispered breathlessly and he groaned louder before pushing her into the bed to lean over her. Nienna lay on her back, his blonde hair creating a curtain around their faces, and gazed up at the panting Prince. It elated her to no end, that her slightest touches had drawn this kind of a reaction from him.

He hovered his hand above her skin, desperate to touch any and all parts of her but he hesitated; unsure of her. He lightly trailed the tip of his finger across the valley between her breasts leaving a trail of goose pimples in its wake. His thumb brushed against the skin of her soft mound before retracting quickly, like her skin was scalding hot. Nienna's own movements slowed, until she looked into his eyes and saw something so unfamiliar.

Apprehension.

Nienna took his hand and guided it down her chest, pressing down so he could truly feel her; all the while keeping eye contact with him. She took his other hand and brought both of them to her sides and smoothed them over the small of her waist to the sides of her ribs. His usually piercing blue eyes were softer, in awe of her.

"I want you to touch me," she blurted, surprising herself. It never began with her wanting it.

She let go of his hands and let his fingers explore the pale expanse of her skin. He was gentle and careful, so unlike anything she's ever felt that she couldn't help but feel precious…significant. Her fingers returned to his engorged cock, her silkiest touch eliciting a hiss from him.

"Nienna…I can't please." He begged before wrapping her bare legs around him. He looked into her eyes, the jade pools drowned with lust, his heart thumping his chest.

"Do you want to?" He asked and she nodded. She kissed him as he entered her slick channel, her walls clamped down on him with exquisite tightness.

"Nienna," he moaned, clenching his jaw. Then he began to move, the delicate friction sent shocks of pleasure through her body and she writhed under him. Soon his thrusts picked up speed, their moans echoed throughout the room, their peaks coming ever closer.

He snaked his hand over her chest, cupping her soft breasts while her pale thighs hugged his hips. His touch was gentle and deliberate, his concern for her was evident in every thrust, every caress.

"Legolas, yes!" Nienna cried as she orgasmed with Legolas' following shortly after.

Legolas fell onto his side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He managed to catch his breath and lay a gentle hand over her thigh which still twitched from aftershocks. His mind swam in the hazy rush of ecstasy before an intrusive thought flushed to the front of his mind. Then, as quick as lightning, he shot out of the bed and began to scavenge for his clothes. Nienna, still lost in her post-coital bliss, was dizzy with confusion as she watched Legolas scurry about her room putting his clothes on.

"Legolas, what is the matter?" She asked.

Legolas opened his mouth to answer before immediately closing it. Telling Nienna that his father was waiting for him for breakfast did not seem a good excuse but Thranduil would be angry if he came late or, Valar forbid, he didn't turn up. Ambivalent, Legolas rushed to the door, his head downturned so as to not give anything away. It was common knowledge that he was a terrible liar.

"I have, a, erm, prior engagement that I cannot delay thank you for your time." And with that he shot through the door.

Nienna remained in her bed, the sheets drawn up around her naked body and the over-familiar feeling of being used wrapped around her mind. She stared at the door, long after it had closed, Legolas' beautiful white-blonde hair swirling behind him as he escaped her.

Escaped.

Yes, she thought, escaped.

Tears came hard and fast, her chest wracked with uncontrollable sobs at her own, new realisation. Legolas was Him, or perhaps, was Nienna just being…Nienna?

She rose from the bed and approached her ornately framed mirror. Her green eyes assessed the image presented to her, from the long black hair that tumbled down her shoulders over her bare breasts to the tips of her small, pale feet.

What's to want? A thing like me, of course they'd not want me, no, not in the way I want them. I have nothing to offer a Prince, no earth-shattering beauty, song-bird voice or divine wisdom. Just a hole, a tight hole, to spill their distraction.

A strange feeling overcame her, unlike anything she'd ever felt, a novel consciousness that dawned on her.

I am worthless.

She held herself, feeling unequivocally empty, a cold dribble slid down the inside of her thigh, the feeling of which was enough to make her sick. So Nienna turned away from her reflection toward the vast expanse of Mirkwood framed by her window, her insignificance exaggerated when she saw the splendour of the forest and the world around it. The birds navigated between trees, the wind blew with force and direction but all Nienna saw was purpose. She turned away, back to her reflection in the mirror with Mirkwood in the background and asked herself.

What do worthless people do?

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He had dreamed that her lifeless body on the make-shift bed was just her sleeping form as she lay next to him; her pink lips puckered slightly, her ample chest rising and falling with each breath. However, he tried to imagine her eyes, from their shape to their colour, all he could see was just closed pale eyelids with long dark lashes. Thranduil relaxed into his chair and stroked his long hair, letting the strands slip between his tapered fingers.

Knock knock

"Your Majesty, YOUR MAJESTY!" Yelled a familiar stocky voice. Sighing, Thranduil turned to the door and announced for Maeglin to enter and only raised an eyebrow as his huffing, out of breath advisor tumbled in.

"The Prince is missing and the elleth of yesterday, I assume he discovered her missing and went after her." His tone was lined with dread. Immediately Thranduil stood, his heart preforming the same violent thumping of the previous day at the thought of his missing son.

"Assemble a group of guards to search the palace, send Tauriel and at least five others into the forest. I want every guard on the loo-."

"I didn't know you cared so much, Ada," an amused voice spoke belonging to an elf who leaned against the door frame. Thranduil's rigid demeanour softened at the sight of his fair-haired son before his eyes narrowed into angry slits.

"Of course I care! How could you say that to me?! I raised you and this is what you do to me…" He droned on about the sacrifices he made for the betterment of Legolas.

Maeglin was the only elf to spectate their King and Prince speaking to each other in that way and made no move to comment on it.

"And lest I forget! You cannot go chasing after every elf and elleth who gets into trouble! Your life is precious and vital because you are a Prince. Need I remind you of what happened when you went after Lores? You need to let The Guard do their job and keep in mind that as the heir to this Kingdom and my son, you need to be more vigilant about yourself."

"Ada, yes I understand! I wasn't chasing her, she just wante-" Legolas replied, exasperated before being interrupted.

"I don't care about the specifics! You are always putting yourself in danger and I won't have it! Now sit and eat your breakfast or are you going to disobey me in that as well?" His voice was laced in warning and Legolas had no strength in him to prolong the argument with his father. So the fair-haired Prince walked morosely across the room and took a seat in his usual position at the breakfast table under the steady gaze of Thranduil and Maeglin.

"Thank you Maeglin," the King turned to his stocky advisor whose muscles were thick and bulging under his robes, "you may go."

Maeglin bowed to both his King and Prince, his gaze lingering on the back of Legolas' head a little longer than necessary before departing. Thranduil whirled around, his exuberant and rich robe twirling about him, and came to sit opposite his son whose face resembled that of a sour grape.

"Eat." Commanded Thranduil, not in the least swayed by his sons' obvious pouting. Legolas reached for the steaming hot food in front of him and piled them onto his plate with his father following soon after.

"How many orcs were there?" Thranduil asked as he popped a segment of an orange in his mouth.

"Seven." Legolas didn't even look up as he broke off a piece of buttered bread and ate it.

"And you were just ambushed?" Legolas sighed at his father's disbelief.

"Yes, Ada. But nothing terrible became of it." Thranduil scoffed and turned away, plopping another orange segment in this mouth. They ate in silence before Thranduil looked unto his son and asked:

"How did she get hurt?"

The stillness following this question was like emptiness between breaths. Thranduil sat eagerly awaiting an answer while Legolas was trying to contain his rage at the memory.

"An orc forced himself on her, knocked her out." He gripped the bread with an angry fist and swore under his breath while Thranduil sat back in his seat.

"At least she is safe now." Their eyes met in understanding before continuing their breakfast without another mention of the previous day's events. Thranduil watched his son continue his breakfast in a hostile mood.

"Do you remember when you cut that hole in Maeglin's breeches?" Legolas choked on his food before swallowing and bursting into laughter. His eyes watered as they recalled the memory of Maeglin, built like an ox, screaming when he realised he'd been flashing his pubes all day. Thranduil relished in the fact he made his son happy, hoping his dear wife witnessed his triumph.

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The ominous red and orange sky stretched over Mirkwood as the sun settled behind the Lonely Mountain. The rain of the afternoon-long gone leaving Mirkwood in its dewy aftermath. Nienna reclined on her window seat, her raven hair loose from its restricting braids as she read from a scratched library book named, Imladris: The Hidden Valley.

She sat engrossed by the vigorous detail of the geographical standpoint of Rivendell, its cumbersome structure well-hidden by the Misty Mountains. Nienna spent the better part of her day in ardour, remembering with a smile the slight details described by the book of her old home.

Knock knock

The exactitude of the knocks were obviously Legolas' and the knowledge that he stood just outside her door made her feel overwrought. She was determined to not let the events of this morning make her contemptuous toward him but grant the Prince a stern, affable manner that would hopefully send him on his way.

Slowly pushing the handle of the door downwards, she became suddenly aware of the cold, moulded metal her deft fingers wrapped around and all the world seemed to still and stagnate as it usually did when she was with him.

"Nienna," he gave a gracious smile and her stern, affable manner melted, "I must apologise for my manner of leaving this morning. It was hasty and rude and I fear I may have hurt you."

His openly honest apology coupled with his entreating blue eyes had destroyed all the doubts about herself that had beset her. She offered a forgiving smile and he moved toward her, scooping her up in an all-encompassing embrace that left her breathless.

"Why have you come so late, Legolas?" She asked as he set her feet on the ground.

"I am on patrol tonight," he sighed, looking down at his feet, "I wanted to make sure you were well although I suppose Larien would be the better judge of that."

"Larien?" Nienna queried.

"She is my father's personal Healer, she attended to you yesterday. Your bruise has healed nicely and you seem yourself again." He smiled sweetly.

Nienna smiled back at him, her eyes animated with internal happiness at the thought that the King had offered his most esteemed Healer to her. She made a mental note to go see the King and thank him for his special attention.

"Are you on patrol all night?" Nienna asked, looking out over dusky Mirkwood.

"Yes, it will be long and boring and I will be alone to my thoughts most of the night." He gave a sad smile which gave Nienna an idea.

"How about I give you something to think about all night long?" Her smile morphed into a smirk and she trailed a tapered finger over a brown leather strap that crossed over his chest. Looking into his eyes with a suggestive twitch of her eyebrow she hooked her finger under the strap and pulled him with her as she walked backwards into her living room. Legolas kicked the door shut behind him as he gave her a matching smirk of his own and Nienna turned to push the armoured Prince into a chair. She hiked up her silky nightdress revealing a hint of pale skin before kneeling before him. Her deft fingers undid the belt of his breeches that struggled to contain his obvious arousal.

As he sprung out in front of her, Nienna looked into his needy blue eyes before letting her mouth descend onto the engorged head of his cock.

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Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, the grandiose designs of the interwoven ubiquitous beech roots only increased her diffidence as she felt banal among such splendour. Her violet silk dress hugged her small frame, caressing her tiny waist to the gentle flare of her hips and the heavy material swirled around her dainty ankles as she walked. Two guards poised at the other end of the hallway stood at attention as the pretty elleth approached, their curious eyes wandering over her exquisite body.

"What business do you have with the King, my Lady?" Asked the burly guard on the left, his silver and green uniform stretched over his taut muscled chest; he had a knavish smile that unnerved her.

"I would like to express my gratitude to His Majesty for having his personal Healer attend to me." Her voice was soft and lilting in comparison to the gruff tone of the guard. The armed elves shared a lewd look and a crude smile before turning back to the elleth, her wide green eyes holding much consternation. The right guard knocked on the door behind him twice before opening it for Nienna.

"Take your time expressing your gratitude," whispered the right guard as she walked passed him, "no one else is scheduled for the rest of the night." He spoke directly into her ear making her flinch away which incited a laugh from the guards and she scurried into the Hall. The door closed behind her, muffling their laughs, and Nienna took her first tentative steps into the King's Hall ignoring their lewd laughter.

He sat high above her in an imposing throne made of twisted wood that curved into a high backed seat. His pointed crown bedecked in woodland flowers wrapped around his head and over his tipped ears, his recognizable white-blonde hair hung loosely over his broad shoulders. Nienna was startled by the similarity he held with his son although his features were more mature and distinguished. His face was sharper, with eyes that dominated her with their striking blue hue and demanded her submission. She found that him somewhat familiar.

Her arrival sparked surprise in him which he masked with a cordial look. He evaluated her as she stood by the entrance, his gaze unwavering.

Green, he thought, her eyes are green.

Thranduil found himself entranced by the unusual colour and he leant forward in his seat to get a closer look. He beckoned her forward with a flick of his finger and she slowly, shyly made her way towards him, offering a simple shallow curtsy and an affable smile when at the foot of his throne.

"M-my King," the closer she got to him, the more nervous she felt. How does one so low ranking address a King? "I wo-would like to thank you for your…profound…generosity when you lent the services of your…personal Healer to me. I am deeply indebted to you…and…thank you…for the sentiment."

The sentiment? Nienna wanted to punch herself in the face, the sentiment! I am an idiot.

She looked up to the King, his face was passive, indifferent. His blue eyes seemed dull and his entire countenance seemed…bored. Nienna immediately grew worried that her gratitude would not be accepted by the King and fretted over reasons as to why. Was her thanks too late? Had she angered him by saying the sentiment? She was suddenly constrained by a need to please him, resurrect the reason as to why he gave his special attention to her. She pleaded with her eyes as he gazed down at her but he continued to seem disinterested.

"Name?" He asked apathetically.

"Nienna, my King," she replied, her eyes downcast.

"I accept your gratitude most humbly," his tone was sarcastic and it perplexed Nienna, "you may take your leave."

Nienna quickly bowed and was overwhelmed with anguish, she quickly scuttled through the same doors and she hurried passed the guards who snickered behind her.

Thranduil stared at the door long after she left, her deep jade green eyes still swirling in his mind as he recalled the promise he made to his lost wife. He shifted in his seat and tugged at his breeches to accommodate his now swollen member. He took a deep breath and looked out the pane-less window.

It is going to be a long night. He thought.


	6. Revelation

Cruel and mutinous he crushed her, his legs pinning hers strategically so that her body was immovable. The stench, far fouler than anything she'd smelt, loomed over her like the orc. She knew their methods and how they liked to take her. Her eyes were a beautiful curse so they always laid her on her back for their assault. Suddenly the image changed, grey skin morphed into paleness and armour melted into worn wool slacks.

"You pay upfront Rigean," a burly arm pressed on his shoulder.

The man above her, a tall broad-shouldered peasant from a little way away from their cottage, dug into his pocket for coin and tossed it at Erir. Nienna was breathless, she knew he was dead but seeing him again after so long was staggering. However, the moment was short-lived, Rigean knocked off the arm and quickly tugged at her undergarments.

"I never do this, I never 'urt a lass," his expression almost concerned and his fingers pressed at her womanhood, "but I know you beg for it and you want it more than I do."

His fingers released and he held his liquid glistening fingertips in front of her, as if he found evidence of her lust. He gripped her thigh, his gaze pointed at her.

"Tell me you wan' it."

Nienna mustered her innocent flush, knowing her green eyes glittered with desire. "Please, I want you inside me."

Rigean smiled, they always did, before plundering into her. Her eyes closed and she yielded…

Her chest fluttering in anguish and eyes darting across the room, she understood that it was a dream. A nightmare formed from a memory. A memory… It seemed a lifetime ago almost as if it had never happened. Erir. Erir. She recalled him nigh perfectly, strong farmer of the Wilderland, a lost man at the mercy of debt. She hated the thought of her life with him, she reeled back from the feeling of the men he brought to her.

But then she sensed it, its throbbing vibration dancing on her skin. She never understood her connection to it but it always called to her when she needed to just, disappear.

It was like a white spot on a black canvas, its presence dominating all. She made her way toward the drawer, even in pitch dark she knew its exact location because of its power. A strange irony to be the only noticeable object in her room.

Sliding the drawer open, streaming moonlight glinted off the sculpted edges, Nienna picked up the small, pearly trinket. Its effect was instantaneous and as she walked up to her full-length mirror, she saw no pale eyes returning her gaze, no satin covered body in the reflection.

The trinket she held in her hands was the only physical proof any of it ever happened. Even in the dim moonlight she could read the inscription by Master Elrond, she assumed. Years had worn away the delicate curves of his Elvish but she knew, she remembered.

The remnants of her dream now sat idly in her mind, images of Erir's face as he poured over debt invoices trying to find another way to pay them off…

She recoiled again, certain that his presence in her dreams was just coincidence and there was only one who could save her. Forever.

Nienna slipped the Invisibility trinket into the pocket of her nightdress, her hand still wrapped around it, and walked out of her room, gently shutting the door behind her. Quietly and carefully, she proceeded up the winding staircases until she reached Legolas' floor. His guards were whispering outside the white double doors of his chambers. She walked slowly toward them keeping her footsteps quiet until she was almost standing before them.

"Orcs roaming in packs! Captain Tauriel has the entire guard doing shifts on the borders!" The burlier guard said, exasperated.

"We'll be fine, orcs have been in the area before and it has never been anything we can't handle."

Nienna listened carefully swallowing back the memory of the Orc attack.

"You don't get it do you? Something has changed, something is happening! I haven't seen Orcs this organised since… well..."

Their heated verbal sparring provided ample distraction from the gentle tapping of her feet and swish of her nightgown. She slipped between them, pushing the chamber door handle down slowly and silently before sneaking in.

Nienna was aware of the Orcs regrouping efforts, she had seen them in the Wilderland in their packs pillaging and swarming some of the smaller villages of the Rohirrim. But that was months ago, she had no idea why they were engaging their efforts with elvenfolk. Their reorganising this far north suggested their epicentre is relocating, perhaps they were hiding? Or expanding? Mirkwood stretched through thousands of trees, thousands of creatures that even the King did not know all who dwelled there.

Her light handedness set the trinket by the door without any noise and she draped her nightdress over a nearby chair. Sweet Legolas, eyes fluttering and softly breathing, lay wrapped up in bedsheets which revealed peeks of his contoured chest and back. Naked and unafraid she approached his bed, careless of the noise she made. Legolas startled, reaching for the bedside table before staring. Just staring. The streams of morning light lit up her pale Elvish skin, revealing her every intimate secret. The fading scarred imprints around her neck, her lithe scarred limbs, her marred breasts, and the long scar at her inner thigh. Marred but not ugly, the exposing light did little to hide her beauty and soon Legolas disregarded the busy canvas of flesh and beckoned her close.

Nienna bade his command, strands of black hair glinting and swirling around her body.

"Prince", unbeknownst to her, her bright green eyes sparkled as she spoke, "I found it difficult to sleep last night."

She presented a perfect picture of demure beauty, she seemed too ethereal under the glow, mesmerising and angelic.

"So, you thought it prudent to invade the private chambers of your Prince," he twirled a black lock around his finger, before using the digit to tip her chin upwards. "I see you may need to be punished for such indiscretion."

Abased by his utterance of that word, punish. Her desire soared; he saw in her the flaws that plagued her throughout her life. The very same flaws that sent her parents away, that let Master Elrond release her to the wretches of Middle Earth with the pitiable trinket. He sees her worthy of punishment for her offensive nature yet adores her, returns to her. Nienna never believed evilness to be left to fester, yet the Prince punishes and embraces it.

"As you please, my Prince." Nienna breathed.

It was a breathless moment, Nienna and Legolas waited for the other to press forward and initiate. Something in Legolas' breathing, his hesitation was stunting. Was he waiting for her to make the move? Nienna waited, glancing over his body and seeing his faithful erection, she knew it was her choice. No force or coercion, she placed her hand on his on the soft mattress, the light of Mirkwood's bright morning in her eye. Legolas leaned into a breathless kiss, their fingers interlaced.

Nienna trembled, her lashes lowered at the feel of his body press into hers, so close that the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, and the nearness forced her face to gaze up at him. They kissed again, Nienna more demanding of his royal mouth. Their bodies moved together, tangled in the bed battling to dominate the other. Legolas flicked his leg out to collapse the precocious elleth onto her back and he positioned himself between her parted legs. His fingers delved into her flesh, circling and rubbing, coaxing inexplicable pleasure. Her hands pushed against him but his fingers rubbed and explored so deep within her and yet he was only so close…

"Please Legolas, I can't wait any longer." Her voice strained under her shame in begging, not in a loss of dignity but in losing the battle of wills. Legolas only smiled and sought to torment her further. His veiny hand snaked behind her head and dragged his nails from the base of her scalp to the cap, grasping as much thick hair as he could. The trails of sparks his fingers elicited sent sharp delicious shivers down her body, drawing more deep sighs. He gently pulled, the grasp enough to sting but deliver more slick where Legolas thrust into. He savoured her face full of pleasure, he was dominating every part of her. Her pleasure nub throbbed and any usual feeling of depravity as she lay there in delicious torment was silenced. He kissed her fervently between strokes and held her face in his hands so as to stare into those green pools. Her senses swam as his mouth moved over hers, her fingers gripping on his taut flesh as she helplessly drowned in the heady kiss. He continued to move, her soft whimpers and moans spurring him forward, her body begging for more of that delicious friction…

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The King reclined in his ornate, wooden seat, rubbing his temples as they throbbed under his touch. Sleep, or the lack of it, was the cause. His dreams were smothered in a particular shade of green that blinded him to madness.

The sun sat idly in the sky and the waiting was making his headache more. Legolas was late again, and the King had no patience for it, a summons from Maeglin would not teach him the respect he is owed as his father and King. A quick glance to the imposing family portrait reminded Thranduil of chasing Legolas and reprimanding him for whatever offence he committed. His beloved wife could never bear to even raise her voice at their only son, such was her gentleness.

Rising from his seat, Thranduil felt rejuvenated with anger at his only son's insolence. He would drag Legolas from his bed and teach him a lesson he would never forget. And that elleth…Thranduil knew in every fibre of his being that he must find her. Those swirling eyes! He housed a temptress and tormentor in his own Halls and he would seek to subordinate the dark-haired thing. The King called for servants to clear the overabundant breakfast and set off from the depths of his private chambers. He padded down the hall and out into the upper atrium. Guards stood to attention; eyes faced away from their King.

"You," commanded Thranduil, "where is your Prince?"

"Your majesty, he is in his private chambers."

Typical.

King Thranduil shouted orders about gathering another council meeting before racing down the great stairs toward Prince Legolas' chambers. As he approached the white double doors, he saw the nosey guards pressed their ears against the wood listening to the breathy moans of a woman in the throes of passion. So, Legolas would rather perform his princely duty between the thighs of some whore than discuss the orc infestation of the forest. The thoughtlessness of his own son brought his blood to boil, his anger effervescing.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The guards suddenly stood at attention, their shock stupefying their mouths.

"Well, we- erm – we heard and – well, Prince Legolas has a – erm- guest and we were just wondering – aha- erm how she got in because we were here all night and no one came to visit him, my King." The guard garbled his words but King Thranduil understood, his son snuck a whore into his room at such pivotal time in his romantic life. He knew there was a desire to see him settled and married before his ascension to the throne. Livid beyond belief, Thranduil headed to the doors, prepared to humiliate the testy Prince.

"My liege! My liege!" Yelled Tauriel from behind him, "the orcs have breached the West Gate, we must assemble."

The delicate moans still beat against the double doors, the bed squeaking incessantly. But Thranduil knew he needed to time to put on his armour and get Maeglin to fetch his sword. Banging on the door in frustration and torn between his son and his Captain, Thranduil turned to Tauriel.

"Get him out of bed and send him to me, I will assemble an initial attack force and we will join you within the hour." Tauriel nodded and let Thranduil pass her and watched him walk up to his chambers, she approached the white double doors and before she could rap on the door a familiar blonde face peered through.

"You knocking for me Tauriel?" Legolas' face was flush pink and he was out of breath.

"What are you doing in there? Your face looks so sweaty and gross…were you 'moving furniture' again?" Tauriel mocked. Legolas narrowed his eyes and mouthed 'get lost' to his Captain.

"King Thranduil wants to see you as soon as possible, you should probably mention your day labouring job." Legolas stuck his tongue out and slammed the door on Tauriel, releasing a breath she couldn't help but think about how much she loved him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BANG

Nienna froze under Legolas, he instinctively threw a protective cover over her, now more irritated his morning activities were interrupted. The distinct thundering of his father's voice could be heard and Legolas quickly jumped out of bed covering his lower half in a billowy robe. Nienna drew the covers further over her naked body and her face was more mortified than any time in her life. Surprisingly Tauriel's voice came through and soon enough the door closed, Nienna felt a familiar form sit on the bed and slowly draw the thin sheet over her face.

"I'm in a lot of trouble, Nienna." Her skin prickled and she smiled at Legolas' exasperation.

"I better get on, I don't mean to get you in more trouble." She said politely, a sudden realisation overwhelmed her. She had lain with the Prince, his hand had touched her and brought to life her innocence and naivety in love. He could be aggressive, but his hands also soothed her and she was so close to her peak it left her wanton. She was not shameless but unashamed in her feelings for Legolas.

"Get on? I'm not finished with you yet." It was some time before Legolas could get away.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A swirl of orange and red, the sky looked like a raging fire, the clouds like billowing smoke. Perched on a thick, curved tree branch, Tauriel and Legolas sat motionlessly; their sights set on a clearing known for its heavy Orc foot traffic.

The stillness of the forest, the leaves shrouding them in isolation, it was a perfect mix. Tauriel felt that particular feeling where you're alone with someone, the small sounds around them fading away, and you feel comfortable expressing your honesty. Opening up to vulnerability as such is a sign of weakness but with such beauty around them and with the world seemingly at ease, Tauriel found this encouraging.

"What do you think about love, Legolas?"

Legolas' ears twitched and he slowly turned to his partner, a befuddled expression on his face.

"I don't understand your question."

In all the years she had known him, the way the fiery summer night sky reflected off his blue eyes had always been her most favourite thing. It's how she imagines he sees her hair, a thought that spreads a heat deep within her.

"Tauriel." Her name brought her back to reality.

"I…uh…mean," she squirmed under Legolas' direct stare, "have y-you ever been in love?"

She clawed onto the possibility that he would understand the nature of her question, see through her words and confess his love to her. But a niggling feeling hung on her back, a doubt that he may not feel the same and feel alienated by the question. She could be risking their friendship but she needed to know!

"Wai-." She said in an attempt to avoid any disaster she had created but was instantly interrupted.

"Yes," he almost whispered, his gaze lifting to the raging sky. His mind's eye projecting the image of a black haired elleth lying under the morning sun, her arm dangling over the edge of the bank, "I think I am."

Eyes wide, mouth agape, Tauriel was stunned into silence. Legolas smiled softly to Tauriel and a feeling so sweet and satisfying gripped her. Suddenly, the loud clattering of armour startled them, and the moment was gone.

"Captain drop behind, and I'll close in on the side," Legolas ordered. Tauriel nodded and swung off the tree dropping silently behind the orc pack. They had keener senses than humans but none superior to the elf. Drawing an arrow and aiming it at the head of the largest orc, she held her stance at full charge while Legolas flew into their flank, arrows flying. Tauriel joined and soon the pack lay in a heap on the ground.

"This scroll in the fat one's pocket should fetch us some intel," Legolas handed the parchment to Tauriel, "make sure Maeglin gets this to father as soon as he transcribes it."

Legolas returned to the bodies, yanking his arrows from their still-warm flesh releasing wafts of fleshy steam from the arrow holes. Tauriel hated this part, even though the orcs would know who had killed their kin, it was best not to leave their higher-ranked marksmanship behind.

More grunts and orc cries echoed in the distance and the two elves hoisted themselves back into the tree. The night engulfed the massacre that the patrolling elves inflicted on the hundreds of orcs that flooded between the trees. Their screams of pain reverberated between every space under the canopy, the Captain and Prince leading the assault. Tauriel twisted and flew between the packs, her blade slicing necks and limbs with ease until she dropped in front of a charging, overlarge orc. He stretched his mouth emitting a roar that revealed his long, pierced tongue. Her eyes narrowed and she took an arrow from a separated section of her quiver. He stomped toward her with incredible speed but Tauriel quickly released the arrow into his left arm which knocked him onto his back. Tauriel watched briefly as he lay howling, almost choking on his spit, and leapt back into the branches and back to the perch.

Legolas joined her above the trees, his clothes stained deep red and brown. "Good fight, I miss the old days when this was just target practice." He smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder, she reciprocated and thanked him.

"Morning will come soon, better sleep Prince." She patted his shoulder in a light dismissal and Legolas grinned before dropping to the forest floor.

"Not joining me, Captain?" Legolas inquired.

"I've still got arrows to pull, sleep well Prince." Legolas shrugged and darted off.

When she was sure Legolas was out of sight and earshot, Tauriel quietly crawled down the tree and walked toward a small clearing. Right where she left him, the orc was clutching his arm but his howls had turned to mewls. At the sight of her, he hissed and attempted to crawl away. Tauriel closed the distance between them and bent down so that they were eye level. The orc snarled and growled but Tauriel grabbed his wide neck and squeezed until he choked.

"Orc, my arrow tips are dipped in poison and only I have the remedy. Follow me silently and I will spare you." Tauriel uttered this spiel with practised confidence and released his neck.

The orc struggled as the poison burned his flesh as it traversed through the surrounding muscle. He faltered, bending over and leaning on his good arm, unable to stop the poison surging through every fibre. Looking up to the patient, arrogant Tauriel, he nodded and pushed himself up.

Tauriel unhinged a vial from the belt on her hips, "half now, to get you where I want you to go, rest when you complete the task. Don't think about crossing me, you need every drop of this antidote to live."

The orc nodded again, his surrender clear for Tauriel, and she yanked the protruding arrow clean from his arm. The yelp could have been audible from miles away. Tauriel pushed him onto his back, knee on his elbow and one hand on his shoulder. The orc was immobile as Tauriel spilt half the contents of the vial in the now-empty arrow hole. The orc braced with laboured breaths for the pain but it had already begun to subside. Tauriel looked at the orcs face again noting the blue-gray shade of skin, the raised nose and disgusting sharpened teeth. Her curiosity piqued again, a sudden desire spiralled in her and she replaced the vial back on her belt. She roughly cupped his jaw, "open your mouth", she demanded.

The orc released his long, slick pierced tongue, the tip reaching well past his chin. A wry smile formed on Tauriel's face and she traced a curious finger across the silver knobs lodged in his flesh. She released her grasp and pulled the orc to his feet.

Sparing a look around the forest around them and finding it quiet and empty, she helped the hobbling orc down the winding leaf-littered paths toward the Elven King's Halls.


	7. Lost

Another morning descended on the Mirkwood inhabitants. Legolas once again late for breakfast. The large crown atop King Thranduil's head blossomed with various flowers scoured from Middle Earth, a white lily placed at the forefront in memory of his wife. Another night passed with her on the King's mind, he had lost every ounce of composure once he was locked into his room. The chamber walls enclosed his heaving sobs, the terror he felt at losing her seized him again. He could never know a love like hers anymore. The truth burned him, reminded him of the eternity of loss he has and will always feel. And now in the basking sun light, sits the product of their union, their only son. He looked so much like him yet almost exactly like her. My son, he pondered but breakfast dishes arrived soon after.

"Father, I think, I mean I know, well-" Legolas stumbled over every word, his father's gaze ever piercing into the mind of his only son.

"You see I-"

"Enough Legolas, if you need to ask me of something, ask." The Kingly tone resonated across the table.

"I might want to get married."

"Marri-, MARRIED?" Thranduil flew into a rage, "at a time like this? We are in a war, a battle-

"Its just orc patrols an-"

"We as a kingdom need to face certain realities-

"I was fighting them yesterday-"

"MARRIAGE is a PEACETIME frivolity."

Prince and King stood at the ends of the table, exasperated. The tenuous King loosened his grip of the table and moved toward the other side. Legolas followed his father's movements, thrown off by his graceful demeanour.

"Ada I-," he started again but at his father's body motion Legolas sat back down, "I need you to listen, there is someon-"

Thranduil reached Legolas and stood behind him. His long delicate fingers dug in from the base of Legolas' neck to the back of his scalp. The feeling was pure ecstasy and Thranduil moved his fingers massaging the area.

"Son, my Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm. You cannot marry yet," another hand snaked round Legolas' chest into the small opening at the collar to rest over his heart. "Your mother would not have approved either."

This was enough to settle Legolas, his head adequately stimulated and the thought of his mother. Thranduil removed his hands to crouch by the side of Legolas' chair, he placed a hand on Legolas' thigh and began to rub up and down the lithe limb.

"You will understand soon enough when the proper time is, and you will marry an elleth chosen by the council. Remember she would be more than a wife and mother, she would also be a queen."

Thranduil's voice was so soothing, it fluttered between Legolas' ears like a spell. Legolas could only concede to his father until he was sure about Nienna. The remainder of breakfast continued in silence, with a few bits of small talk before Tauriel came to collect Legolas for patrols. Just as the pair left, Thranduil grabbed Legolas' arm, "you will understand when this blows over."

He released the arm and not another word was spoken until the door was quietly shut.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

High up in the palace in a tall tower was Maeglin, a stout elf, who had long been the primary advisor to the King. He maintained his chair through the administration of several services for the Crown and its subsidiaries. One of which was transcribing the scroll Prince Legolas obtained on patrol. The scroll was short, only a few words but they were telling. The orcs were planning skirmishes in the West of Mirkwood and would need support in doing so.

Maeglin sat back in his office, the solar was wide and bright, windows decorated the entire ceiling of the room. He remembered the West, a far cry from the beauty and splendour the Palace portrays in the East. The West is known for its secret entry passages into the forest but only to those of a more insidious nature. Those who enter there are always looking for trouble and in Maeglin's excursion to the West he found exactly that.

In a momentary reminiscence he saw the cowering elleth behind a moss grove, sobbing gently by a stream. She was fairer than any other, even King Thranduil. But her onyx locks caked in mud and her tattered rags barely covering her lusting body denied him the full pleasure of her loveliness. Maeglin could not control his sympathy for the stranger.

"Fairest elleth." He called her and would still. His heart broke for her, the tales of kidnapping and torture she spoke of. Then she held her swelling belly and he could not look upon her any longer. He saw the pain, searing into his brain, she was truly lost.

"Master, please," she pleaded, reaching for his trouser ties with her dirt-caked fingers. Maeglin turned and squirmed uncomfortably at the image. And yet he let her, he guided her dirty hand to the tip of his solid member and in a breathless foggy state of lust, he promised her a life. A life at the palace at the cost of further debasement, the rehousing of the baby at the cost of her maternity, and a life untouched and quiet for the remainder of her days at the cost of her voice. No one could ever know.

Maeglin remembered the nights he tossed and turned at the thought of her running to the King to tell of his brutality. Instead, she would come to him, every now and then, to show how grateful she was. He longed for the days she felt so compelled, they had become so few. He vowed to himself to visit, to see if she was still happy to be here.

Installing the quiet elleth into the palace was near no work at all. The endless corridors of the large, twirling roots and branches clustered together making up the palace provided ample choice. Maeglin simply instructed an old study be dusted off in a separate part of the palace, away from the wandering eyes of elven royalty. He remembered her soft, lilting voice asking for a library, for some book that she said was "of dear consequence to me". Maeglin had never heard of it but found it in the lower palace, ever since then it has taken a proud position at her bedside. He thought of it, once, to ask her how she ever came to be so lost. Her swollen belly housed a dark secret indeed, the image of the green-eyed orc spawn terrified him. Crossing pure elf-folk with the most unnatural of breeds…it was a strong offspring, the kind to reimagine warfare. Its whereabouts are even unknown to him now, he made sure it stayed with its kin otherwise it would be cruel. Orc half-breed amongst elven families or even common folk. There would not be a day where that thing would be happy not that orcs experience happiness. Poor elleth, she gave it an elven name, Ceroden. But he saw to it that it would never keep it. Durgam, son of Dhuram, is the name he gave for it. The name he passed to the smugglers. It would be a little child-like thing now, calling itself Durgam. Perhaps, he should check on the half-breed also, the elleth would be pleased to hear it doing well.

Now, Maeglin thought, time to deliver the bad news.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wind was calm, fluttering over the moon-blanched treetops and descending into Nienna's arched windows. Her eyes stared into the room, glimmering and vast, her breathing in and out and in and out with tremulous cadence. Such tranquillity around her vibrating body, buzzing off the face of the Prince and his glittering smile. She closed her eyes to curb the turbid ebb of intrusive thoughts. It called like a siren across a distant sea, she turned to face the tide and the memories started to flood back in.

The sky was painted in orange and pink hues, stretched over the swaths of land in West Emnet.

"This feels like a dream I had, only, I can't remember it."

Nienna turned to a pale-faced orc, he continued smoking on a pillaged pipe but his upturned eyes soaked in the coloured sky.

"I'm going to leave tonight, I don't think I can wait any longer Olgin." Said Nienna, she couldn't meet his eyes if he looked at her. "Azog and the camp…they'll be back and I-…I can't keep being this way."

She turned to him, searching for a modicum of understanding in spite of the reputation she has gained in the Wold.

"Sma ana," He liked to call her little river, for she cried endlessly, "you dream for something that cannot exist."

"To return to my kin? It seems an ordinary request." She huffed.

"That you could return at all."

Her heart palpitated and limbs shivered. Olgin touched on a moral fissure in her very soul that haunted her every belief. She did not feel changed yet she was, she did not want change, yet, there would have to be.

She is ruined, debased, without honour. How could Master Elrond take her back into his home?

Soon the stampede of hooves vibrated the grassy hillside she sat upon, she sighed in realisation.

Later that evening, Nienna was placed firmly between Azog trunk-like legs. Her mouth suctioned from the tip to the base of his engorged member. Her tongue swirled on the underside of the head where any male would tremble and Azog exhaled forcefully every time she licked it. His over-large hand bobbed her head, exerting simple pressure so the tip would bury deeper into the back of her throat. Suddenly, other large hands would search her behind and touch and rub her dripping cunt. They pulled her from her kneeling stance to on her hands and knees, pushed her thin cloth dress to the side, spread and plunder her. Often time impatience would override the greedy orcs and a brother would stand over her to fit into her ass. Yet she was determined to please Azog, he literally held her chains in his hands. The third orc spat on her hole and dipped two fingers into the tight space. He was impatient enough and shoved his girthy cock in as well. She felt so full, the cock in her pussy moved rhythmically against the one in her ass, squeezing every ounce of ecstasy from her. It was too soon before the cocks were replaced, and she knew the display she made. Spread cheeks glistening with orc loads dripping and splashed all between her thighs. The next two fought for space in her cunt, stretching her so far that Nienna couldn't help the loud moans vibrating Azog's cock. She massaged his heavy balls when she felt his cock grow unrelentingly in her mouth ready to blow. She made sure to look deep into his face, his stony eyes, so he knew she was grateful to be alive, sucking his dick, and receiving all the cum his brothers would allow her.

He finished in her mouth and did not waste a drop, Nienna was more than satisfied with her performance and even allowed herself to enjoy another orc plugging her asshole. She watched Azog the whole time and he watched her. He watched her cum on three orc cocks and held her chains ever tighter.

The three orcs came everywhere, and Nienna fell onto her back her knees apart so that all could see the rivulets of white escape her coveted elven cunt.

Azog reached from his throne-like chair and scooped up the leaky elleth, he sniffed at her and smirked.

He spoke in broken Common tongue. "I will not release you, elf-child, and you will be my first wife." The abruptness of his demand silenced Nienna, but she remembered orcs are so unlike the males of her past. They 'marry' worthy whores to ensure the paternity of their subsequent children but return the wife to the pack to be used, even through pregnancy. Since so few females choose this life, wives must be shared. An elf-orc bloodline would ensure a stronger, longer living generation and she would provide it. First wife would mean a lifetime of this, a lifetime of birthing mixed abominations…but she would have no shame. No one knew she was here, no one knew how much pleasure she found in her debasement.

Nienna nodded compliantly.

Nienna turned unto her back and gazed at the fire-folk speckling the night sky in their clusters. Her body uncomfortably warm despite the chill night air. She forced herself out of bed, grabbed the trinket and headed toward the library on the lower floors. A good book might send her into a restful sleep. A sleep free from her shame.

The gentle chorus of blue smoke wreaths rose in fanciful whorls from sticks of foreign incense. The library had been as she had remembered: empty, cosy, and warm. As she perused the shelves, even the gap where she had taken Miner's Waterfall still lay vacant and unnoticed. She delicately fingered the empty space, a small smile on her lips at the thought of Prince Legolas. Shining and brave Prince who saw her, enchanted by her but not possessed. He let her choose.

"Nienna?" She heard the familiar call, Maeglin.

She ducked quickly, hiding behind a stack of books at the end of the room. A shadow entered the library, the silhouette as stout and broad as the man who owned it. She followed the shadow around the library walls as it called her, beckoning with its lusting voice. Nienna panicked and looked everywhere, searching and begging for an exit. She spied a narrow door she'd never seen before behind a load-bearing wood column. She crept to the door, making sure to hold tight to the trinket. The door creaked loudly but Nienna quickly closed it turning the lock on the side.

"What was that?" She heard the familiar query but heard his retreating steps. Nienna realised she wasn't the only one dealing with shame. Nienna released the trinket into her coat so that the magic ceased.

"Reveal yourself."

The tone was threatening, menacing, Nienna could hardly move. The force of the words compelled the young elleth from the dark doorway into the light of the small stone walled room. The sconces behind the imposing figure were lit, silhouetting the figure but Nienna could not mistake who was in front of her.

She stepped into the amber glow of the room, her coat covering her trembling limbs.

"Elusive elleth," his lips curled, "your eyes have coloured my nightmares for too many days now."

She dropped to the floor, on her knees in a low bow. "Your majesty, I beg you no harm, I did not realise this section was private. Please, forgive me."

Her voice was sweet and low, the pleading undercutting every word. She felt the figure move toward her.

"Up." She stood up, her head still bowed in front of her. Thranduil stepped forward, slowly, and she retreated. Her back to the wall she began to feel the ridges of a bookcase and then the sudden swing of his arms. Nienna stepped back, imprisoned by his long arms that gripped the shelves behind her, her fear so strong she trembled.

"Look at me." He growled and she obliged, her bright green eyes staring deep into his own. "You temptress, housed in my palace, and I have finally caught you."

Nienna's eyes pleaded but she could only see the veil of lust that overcame him.

"Your highness I implore your for-forgiveness," she stuttered and nestled in as far back as her body would allow.

"You do not require it," he spoke, drawing his face to hers so she could see the bright blue of his eyes penetrate her own. "I have wondered, for too long, how long have you remained a dormant presence in my palace?"

Nienna was bound by her oath not to reveal the secret of her arrival or life here but the silence between them loomed on.

"Not speaking?" His impatience was clear, "how can I make you talk?"

He tore off her loosely buttoned cloak, the discarded garment piled haphazardly on the floor. Nienna squirmed against the shelves, only dressed in her nightgown the flimsy material revealed the soft peaks of her breasts. A long, revealing v-neckline enticed Thranduil's gaze but she was too afraid to obscure his hungry view. He lifted her small frame and placed her back against the bookcase, using one hand he hooked each thigh on a shoulder. The delicate nightgown pooled around her waist and Thranduil groaned when he caught a glimpse of her bare crotch.

"Why have you not revealed yourself to me before, elleth?"

Nienna could not answer, she would jeopardise her only friend Maeglin and might even lose the quarters she has now. She kept silent avoiding the King's eyes but felt the stir of warmth in the abdomen. She was wetter than ever, prepared for his possession. Thranduil searched her wanton face but she would not yield.

"Your silence comes at a price, a punishment for your disobeying your King." The word, he could not help himself, and Nienna was near panting now.

He used his daring fingers to rub up and down her slit before unsheathing himself already ready to enter in.

Nienna moaned loudly and wildly, his size was impossible, he touched a spot so deep within her she could not resist squirming over his cock. He started impossibly slowly, she felt too tight with an impossible grip that could have sent him over the edge. She squirmed further, her hands gripping his shirt and finally a breathy, "please."

"Then speak elleth, when did you come to my palace," his strokes slowed and his thumb ventured to the nub in her slit which drew circles of pure ecstasy.

"Please, please," she begged, her eyes dilated and wild.

Her juices dripped onto the King, the smell so fragrant drove him wild with need.

Thranduil did not hold back, he thrust deep within her and pumped into her so hard he was practically roaring. Nienna started slipping and Thranduil hoisted her up to set her down on a narrow table by the far end of the room. He continued to fill her and Nienna mewed with intense need. The noises were sending him and Thranduil knew he needed to stop before it was all over.

So he pulled out and turned the precious elleth onto her front, parting her again and eyed the long-awaited prize. She glistened from her own lust, practically dripping from desire and she just smelled so damn good. He brought his face closer, using two digits to spread her lips before taking a taste. She could not have tasted better, sweet and musky better than anything he had ever tried. He licked and circled, his tongue earnestly lapping at the liquid she offered. Soon he began to feel her quiver and he re-entered his little elleth, plundering her until she shuddered. Thranduil released all he had into her, the conniving minx who plagued his days with those smouldering green eyes.

Thranduil took a few steps back to watch his seed drip out from her little pussy. The white liquid smothering her lips and inner thighs, a sight he could stare at for hours.

Nienna quickly picked herself up, pushing her skirts down and covering herself. She maintained a lowered gaze as she realised, she had betrayed Legolas, betrayed him with his own father. Thranduil reached down and held her face between his fingers, forcing her to gaze up at him.

"You're mine elleth."


	8. Attrition

Flushed cheeks, eyes wide shut. The misty woodland crept in her bedroom windows on the wave of an icy breeze. The fog swirled above her head cooling her warm body. All around her she could feel an energy, heavy and dark, crawling on all fours like an animal. It was faceless, causing her a disquiet within her own body. It crawled further, growling at her until she felt a tug on the bedsheet under her and her eyes flew open.

"You're mine."

The horror of her actions reckoned with her nerves. Betrayal, shame, whore. Her eyes welled up with hurt at herself, the lack of power she felt. Her chance at a normal life destroyed by her actions, there was no foreseeable escape. The King has had her and will have her, just like Azog, just like Erir. Owned by powerful males, mutilating her beauty and binding her to their wills for eternity. Nienna remembered the ring Erir proposed to her with, an out of shape, dark gold band that was too big for so delicate an elleth. Azog proposed and claimed her cunt for all to see. Now, a King, a King of her own kin no less! He will use her until she bears a child and elves do not easily conceive together if there is a child…she will be married by the laws of her people. Married a third time. And most definitely for the remainder of her life.

Oh Legolas, she whispered, how can you accept me now

Nienna sobbed into her pillow, crying for the first time in a while. Her tears staining the sheets until they were sopping wet. Was there truly no hope for her? All she wanted was a chance at normalcy. Perhaps live alone but live on her terms and independently. But Prince Legolas, saviour and saint, how could she do this to him. Nienna turned onto her back, eyes upturned to the ceiling, the fog swirling into a vision of Erir. His sallow face prominent in the gray gradient of the fog, his mouth moving but she couldn't make out what he said. The fog flattened out before swirling again but this time Azog's brutish face, his signature smirk stretching wide in the gray. Her body tingled like bolts of lightning dancing over her fair skin. Memories and memories like waves crashing on the shore, flooding her mind.

Perfect torture.

The grey mist swirled again, the darks and light parts forming a kneeling woman. Her clothes were ragged and her head hung low. The greys morphed again and the woman was on her back, legs open, her head shaking in pain. The realisation started to dawn on her, she couldn't even recognise the woman, the elleth. It was her, in all her demeaning positions. Her obvious sexual pleasure from those powerful males and yet the strong sharp pain of her abject shame. She shut her eyes at the visions, they were too overpowering. She could not live like this any longer, lost in her own body. There had to be a new way or nothing.

"You're mine."

Last night, the King barely let her escape him and after her covert grasp of the trinket, he changed his mind only to find the room empty and the door slammed shut. His growl and rage sent her fleeing back to her quarters, breathless and afraid. She knew she was running out of time. Staying cooped up in her room would only aggravate a male like the King and soon he'd come knocking. He was just like Azog and Erir, impatient to a fault and so hungry to have her. The thought of being ravished again by the King both enthralled and repulsed her. He was so much more devious; he touched her deeper than his own son. Where Legolas was soft and adoring, Thranduil was domineering. He called to her pleasure where Legolas called to her heart.

The grey mist grew dense and thick in her room, suffocating her. Intoxicating the cells of her lungs like fire smoke.

What's happening…

She began to choke, stuck between the images of Legolas and Thranduil. In a small moment of bravery, she rolled off the bed and crawled on the floor to the bathroom. She slammed shut the door and breathed deeply. She ran a bath and slid in, the steam was a refreshing break from the harsh fog-smoke. The warm water soothed and washed over her naked body. She took the small soap bar and began to lather the sweet lavender scent into her skin. She massaged her long limbs, up past her abdomen and over the crests of her breast. Her free hand snaked over her hip to the apex of her thighs. The tips of her fingers found the place these men all want to go. Nienna had not touched herself, ever. But the desire for clarification was pushing.

She circled her clit, rubbing the gentle nub while she imagined large muscular hands grip her thighs. She recognised the pale orc blue skin of Azog and looked into his eyes, his beastly mouth repulsed her. The weather-beaten face of Erir appeared at her side, his hands were rough and calloused. They tried to cup her supple breast but Nienna had already cast him out of her mind. Then came needy Thranduil, his lofty gaze scanned her little frame in the bath. She was impressed by his bulge as he stood over her, feed on the stone skirting of the tub. She knew he could stretch her impossibly wide, touch that sweet spot till she crumbled. But Legolas appeared, with a halo of light around his lean body. His smile dazzling her and she could feel herself peaking. The way he spoke her name, spoke with her, held her. She was enamoured by him. Her body felt like it was rising above the water and in one bright flash of light, she was back in the tub.

It is decided, she thought, it's always been him.

Nienna quickly dressed, grabbed the trinket and escaped out of the now clear room. Her quick movements stimulated more excess cum to drip from her cunt, Thranduil had emptied everything into her. Nienna quickly wiped some away and snuck up the winding stairs past the guards and into the chamber. Her hand released the trinket into her cloak pocket and she materialised in front of the Prince.

Legolas was sat at the far end of the suite, at his desk, his eyes trained on some parchment in front of him.

"My Prince, I must speak with you," she breathes, "I am not who you think I am."

He stood up from his desk taken aback at the intruder. His piercing blue eyes meet her own and Legolas is enveloped in her beauty once more.

"I believe that, I believe you have more to offer. My Nienna, love, I want to marry you."

Her breath caught in her throat, lodged between the truth and malicious intent. Everything would end if they married, even if the truth came out, she would be under the protection of the Eldar. All they needed to do was invoke the phrase Eru Ilúvatar and she would be saved, forever. Her body burned with deceit, malice and desire, the warmth cultivating on her back like searing pain.

"Yes," she finally said, "yes, I will be yours now and always."

A satisfied smile graced his lips and he kissed her, deeply and with every ounce of love he held for her in his body. Legolas reached under Nienna and picked her up. We walked to his desk and sat her on the desk, on the sheets of important intel from other patrolling guards. He knelt before her parted thighs to look upon his future wife. She glistened like the shimmer on a lake, enticing and mesmerising. He longed for a taste but a sudden realisation burned her cheeks. Her face enflamed at the thought of Legolas witnessing her betrayal, small globs of cum were still dripping from her cunt since last night. She took a steady hand to guide his face back to hers, trying to divert his attention but he shook her off. He spreads her lips, two split fingers just like his father, and begins to lick and swirl in her warm folds. Nienna cannot help but moan loudly, Prince Legolas eats her best. He's so attentive to her every shudder and sound.

"You taste…different Nienna," a delicious shudder erupts within her, "I love this new taste, salty and sweet."

He continues to lick her, suck her, use a curious thumb to strum her bulging clit. Nienna reaches down to grasp his blonde hair and Legolas smirks into her steaming cunt. Nienna can't help but feel, vindicated by this cleansing. If anyone were to erase the evidence of her indiscretion it would be Prince Legolas.

"Please, my Prince, I'm so close," she begs and Legolas feasts ever more. His soft blue eyes watching his beautiful elleth. She started to pant as her peak came into reach but his lips departed hers.

"Not yet sweet wife, I must finish marrying you." The words fell so sweetly on her ears, she was to be married to Legolas.

He slowly entered her, his bulbous head stretching her although, she thought, Thranduil stretched her much further. Thranduil's cock was so girthy she had to spread her thighs as far as she could go. Legolas thrust and thrust deeply, his kisses on her lips tasted like honey. Nienna felt alive and on fire at the same time as he kept rocking into her, he looked into her eyes saying, "we must invoke the name."

"Eru Ilúvatar," he said.

"Eru Ilúvatar," Nienna answered.

With blustering smiles, the couple continued on in their first mating as man and wife.

The gentle inhale and exhale let Nienna know her darling husband was fast asleep. She rose out of bed and stretched her worn limbs after a full day's activities. She was saved.

Wife, elleth, royalty. A completely new identity and one that is better than hoped for. Although she did not exchange wedding bands with her dearly beloved, that was a mere formality. Nothing and no one could break this marriage. She walked around her new quarters, a stark difference to the space she was used to. Legolas had several rooms in his suite and now they were hers too.

She picked up her old clothes from the floor and felt the heavy weight of the trinket in her cloak. She took it and put it in a low cabinet at the back of the shelf and shut the doors on it, she would never need to sneak again.

Knock

Nienna walked proudly to the door, her dressing gown barely covering her breasts and she did not care. She opened the door to find a familiar face staring back at her.

"Maeglin!" She squealed.

Maeglin was shocked to find the elleth answering the door of the Prince! Outrageous, and her breasts, full and plump as they were, indicated she was his bedmate.

"Nienna – I cannot believe you have done this! Your presence in this palace was to be hidden!" He whispered with anger. Nienna stepped outside the room and quietly shut the door behind her. She couldn't help the enveloping smile on her face.

"I know what you have told me but, Maeglin, I am married to the Prince! Is it not exciting news!" She gleamed as she spoke it.

Maeglin looked pale and grave, not mirroring her happiness in the slightest.

"Do I need to remind you about the condition I found you in? Hm? The baby! You are not a virgin! He is a Prince you little whore! You were my little elleth…" Maeglin's face contorted with conflicting emotions, unsure of how or why this had come to pass.

Nienna was waiting for him to blurt out that dirty truth but she was ready.

"I have not spoken a word about my interactions with you and I'm sure my husband won't approve of any slander against his new wife. We spoke the words, Advisor, our marriage is valid and consummated in the eyes of the most High."

Maeglin was silenced, if she was correct, there was no way to prove the manner of her arrival. He could find the baby but nothing about that orc half breed would connect him to her. He would be exposed for keeping secrets, a treasonous elf in the eyes of his King. She mentioned once of her status under Lord Elrond which would protect her further.

"Fine, I will find out for myself if this is true and I will undo it in the eyes of all. Mark my words." Maeglin threatened before departing with a ferocious look. "And tell the Prince he's late for his patrol."

Nienna woke the sleeping Prince and he got ready for his patrol. As he was leaving, he pressed a hard object into her small palm. She opened it to find a delicate white gold ring wreathed in diamonds.

"It was my mother's wedding band and it belongs to you now." He kissed her sweetly before watching her place the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly as if she was made for him. He quickly kissed her again before heading off to patrol.

The world felt bigger somehow, the view from Legolas' windows were brighter, wider and filled with the gentle strums of birdsong. Just how it felt the day she first met him. The only worry she would ever have would be getting pregnant, but that is the least of her worries now. No one could suspect the father of the child of being anyone else. Nienna looked to her left hand at the newly adorned finger. The beautiful, fine jewellery must be older than any elf she had ever met. Such a delicate ring, befitting a consort and future queen.

Knock

Nienna stood and walked to the door, pleasantly surprised to find Captain Tauriel at the other side.

"Captain," Nienna bowed.

"You! Where is your Prince?" Tauriel looked vehemently disgusted, Nienna was practically half-naked at the door. Legolas' conquest in full form. She even looked like a whore but Tauriel spotted something glint in the light. Tauriel snatched her hand and looked devastatingly at the Queen's ring on the whore's finger.

"He-he's married, you," Tauriel could hardly say the words, her heart felt heavy and torn all at once. Her Prince, Hers.

"Soon enough you will be addressing me much differently, Captain," Nienna snatched back her hand with sufficient haughtiness. "Remember you place Tauriel."

Tauriel stood back, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears, she gave a half-hearted bow and left the corridor.

The day moved on slowly, Nienna sat in her husband's bed for hours. The patrols would carry on for hours more. She felt as empty as she did that morning, lost in her own thoughts. Her fingers glided over the bedsheets, stained with all fluids she could think of. Her mind wandered to the hours of lovemaking with her new husband. She showed him all the pleasures of his new wife. She giggled at the memory of Legolas fucking her asshole then moving to her pussy sharing his cum with both greedy openings. It was like he was in a trance, so obsessed with being inside her, possessing her, like those powerful males but he never hurt her and she wanted him.

But the hours ticked by slowly and she couldn't help but touch herself there. Her own fingers ventured to the tight hole but unable to stretch it the way she liked. Like her King. The head of his cock swam in her mind like music on repeat. He could hit the spot and she would grip him like a vice. The idea had her dripping wet and the temptation to just wander up those stairs was so inviting. So Nienna removed the marriage ring and placed it by the bedside table, grabbed the trinket from the cabinet and made her way to the main staircase and all the way up, to King Thranduil's quarters.

Security was scarce as patrols had increased so slipping into the King's chambers was easier than anticipated. She opened the door to his study to find him half-naked from the bottom down at his desk. Dropping down to her knees she crawled quietly, she knew he could not see her but she wanted to surprise him. When she crawled under the desk, she placed the trinket beside her then dragged two fingers up his long, slender legs.

"I could smell you from across the room, elleth." He peered down between his legs to see the upturned gaze of his new plaything. Nienna smiled provocatively before eyeing the thick slab of meat before her. Her King's cock was so mouth-watering, she could not waste a second in devouring it. She took the girthy manhood in her hands and kissed the tip before swirling her mouth over his cock. She sucked and gagged over the length as it reached past the end of her mouth and into her throat. Thranduil gripped his chair arms as she masterfully moved up and down over his member like a professional whore. Soon his hands moved to fist her hair and bob her head up and down the way he liked and he thrust into her open mouth. Her warm wet mouth as inviting as her pussy, Thranduil couldn't help but thrust further in.

Nienna loved watching his face morph into different expressions of pleasure. Soon enough he was spilling down her throat and he tasted exquisite.

"Thank you, my King," Nienna bowed her head, her bare-naked flesh kneeling before the might of her King.

"You have pleased me greatly, elleth. Now take your place on my lap." Nienna gracefully stood and eyed the rapidly growing manhood laying against Thranduil's thigh. He was so big, and she couldn't wait to fit it all inside her. She straddled his lap letting her knees point outward. She felt her pussy lightly brush against the cock and she grasped the near fully hard member.

Carefully she let the head rub against her opening until it hit the hole and she sat down over the bulbous head. The stretch was phenomenal. Pulling her tight pussy apart gave her chills down her spine. She kept sliding down while offering her mouth to the King. Thranduil kissed and nipped at her lips which her pussy situated around his ever-widening shaft. Slowly she began to move up and down, a slow whirl on her hips. Thranduil threw his head back mesmerised by her practiced movement. His groans were low and wanting until he couldn't take the slow torture. He whisked her up and put her on his desk, like father like son. He hooked her legs over his shoulders so the barrier between their bodies was a small as possible.

"I could fuck you all day, Nienna." Hearing her name on his lips pushed her over the edge, her pussy was gushing as she watched her King bent over to inspect the glistening pussy. Nienna remembered Legolas' cum must be dripping from his plundering earlier in the day, her cheeks heated at the idea. But something sinister stirred within her, she very much enjoyed the idea of father and son fucking her and tasting each other without knowing. She felt powerful in her ploy, like a mastermind. She owned their cocks and would have them as she saw fit. Thranduil spread her lips with two fingers and began his ministrations. He was happily deceived by the new taste, but Nienna's juices overpowered. He lapped her up like a lovesick puppy and Nienna couldn't help her moans from escaping.

"Nienna I can't wait any longer." Thranduil braced his cock in his hand and stood up, circling her legs around his hips. "I'm going to fuck you now."

Nienna gasped as he stretched her once again and took her violently. He hit the spot each time and she bucked under him. Her voice was a low whisper, begging, "please, please, please!"

She came on him in the strongest orgasm she had ever had, her pussy throbbing so hard Thranduil came again. He stepped back to see the cum drip from her pussy and it excited him to see his little elleth conquered.

Nienna stepped off the desk, letting the cum continue to slide down her legs. And walked into the next room, a long wood encased bed greeted her and she happily collapsed on top. She peeked behind her to see her King at half-mast ready to take her again.

"Do you want to fuck my ass, master?" And Thranduil grinned.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was long into the night when Prince Legolas came into his chambers. The bed was empty and he saw the ring on the table. Something has happened, he thought but he was not sure what. He took the ring into his hands, it was cold and now he was worried –

Knock

"Come in," he said commandingly.

Tauriel slipped through the door, her head low as if she were sad. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Tauriel, speak." He hid the ring quickly in his breeches, he was not ready to tell her yet.

Tauriel looked up and met his eyes, her voice was hoarse and quivering but she managed a few words.

"Is it true, then?" Tauriel enquired.

"I do not understand, Captain." Legolas raised an eyebrow at the question.

"That, that you are now married," the word came out like a bitter screech. Her eyes flooded with tears and she had to turn away. Legolas did not understand her reaction, how did she even know?

"Yes, earlier today in private…how has this got out?" Legolas walked to her and spun her in his arms. She looked at the man she loved and could not recognise him, his pale blue eyes void of their usual brand of loveliness.

"She answered the door earlier…she showed me the ring. I cannot believe you'd choose her, she's not good enough for you!" Her words came out childishly and with complete venom but nothing could hold her back.

"Watch your tongue, she is to be your future queen, Captain." Legolas was heated, he would not accept a word against his wife.

"Does your father even know? Why make this whole thing a secret? Did she force you?" Her questions came quickfire, Legolas could hardly keep up.

"I have told him, I am telling him," Tauriel raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "I'm telling him right now."

Tauriel mockingly stood to the side allowing the Prince to walk past. He turned to face her and hurrumphed before ascending the stairs to his father's chambers. The guards let him past and he walked further and further into the quarters until he heard something.

Like heavy breathing but there were too many pants for it to come from just one person. He heard it through the walls of his father's bedroom and came to the door. The pants were loud moans now, and Legolas smiled. His father was enjoying himself too that day. Legolas decided it best to leave him for now–

"I want more my King, fill my pussy with your cum please!"

A black wave of horror washed over the Prince. That voice, that voice he could recognise anywhere. He turned back around to face the door, the voice begging and pleading for his father's cock, no mercy. Legolas turned the door handle, his heart hammering in his chest, his hands shaking in pure fear. He closed his eyes as the voice called for more cock, to pull her hair as his father took her. Legolas stepped into the room, his body trembling with fear, he was terrified to open his eyes.

"My King, I've never felt a better cock in my life."

His eyes sprang open and his jaw hit the floor. Beautiful black hair spread over the bed, dainty arms clasped behind her back, her ass stuck in the air where his father shoved in his cock. Her face was completely consumed with pleasure, she never made that face with him. Thranduil spat down onto the elleth's pussy and from this angle Legolas saw how wide she was to accommodate the girth. His heart cracked and sank in his chest. His father. His wife.

Suddenly he heard her gasp and Thranduil halted at the sight of his son.

"Legolas! Get out of here!" Thranduil's voice boomed across the room.

A long silence stretched between them until Legolas found the courage to say:

"That's my wife."

Thranduil's eyes grew to more than three times its usual size and pushed the elleth off his cock. He stepped back and Legolas couldn't help but look at the huge member his father possessed. Infinitely larger than his own. Thranduil ran into another room and Legolas looked upon Nienna with a newfound pain in his chest.

"Someone better explain now," Thranduil yelled, re-entering the room in a house gown. Legolas' eyes filled with tears and he couldn't find the will even to stand any longer. He collapsed on the ground, his chest heaving with sadness as he saw the image of his father thrusting into his one love.

"I said I wanted to get married," he said between sobs, "so I married her today. She was the elleth I wanted to show you." His voice cracked at the end as he pointed at Nienna on the bed, the irony of the situation was not lost on him.

"Son, she has been with me last night, she came to me again only a few hours ago." Thranduil informed his son with sheer disbelief that Nienna was the female he spoke of but Legolas sobbed louder. Her infidelity was too much to bear.

"Speak elleth before I kill you," Thranduil stared at her with those piercing eyes.

She mustered as sweet a voice as she could, "it is true your Highness, I have had a relationship with your son for several days now. We married in his quarters as we consummated the union only a few hours ago."

Thranduil fell backwards at the revelation, she had been sneaking in his son's bed for days. The silence fell on the room was everlasting, Nienna sat up on the bed feeling invincible but so guilty. She looked upon her husband and his breaking sobs, her heart felt heavy with suffering.

"Legolas, I-, I did not want to hurt you. Your father cornered me-."

"You should never lie about the King, so choose your words carefully, whore." Thranduil issued this statement before standing up and unfastening the gown.

"You have played a very serious game, now that you have married my only son. You have sought to whore yourself out at the expense of my family's dignity!" Thranduil grabbed Nienna's ankle and dragged her screaming down the bed toward him. "You cock-hungry little slut, what did you seek to gain from this?"

In an instant, Legolas was stood up gripping his father's grasp on Nienna's ankle.

"Father I cannot let you hurt her; she is my wife by law and love." Thranduil huffed at the statement, he had taught him to love his wife no matter what, but this scenario wasn't a consequence he had envisioned.

"She must be punished my son, she sought to use us both for whatever means. How can she love you if she comes to me?" The words cut Legolas but Thranduil had to speak them, it was the only way to break her spell on him. Nienna had already started gushing at the thought of a punishment. She was so delightfully ready to be satiated. Thranduil grabbed his son's face between two fingers and violently released it. Then quickly went to his breeches to untie the laces. Legolas quickly jumped away, "what are you doing father?"

"We are going to punish her!" Thranduil's voice was burning with rage, "we will fuck her until she is tore open. Fuck her till she begs for forgiveness."

Legolas' eyes pleaded with his father but there was no scrap of humanity in him. His father was lost to the rage and disobedience would only ignite it further. So Legolas removed his breeches and took out his cock.

"Suck his cock, slut," Thranduil fisted Nienna's hair and brought her mouth to Legolas' penis. She quickly manoeuvred over the limp flesh, Legolas could not bring himself to feel the excitement until she began to run her tongue over the ridge. Soon his whole cock was deep throating her and Legolas could feel the tingles of primal desire manifest in his blood.

"Good good, Legolas fuck her face, don't let her breathe," Thranduil instructed as he positioned behind the elleth. He put her on her back so he sees his son smack his balls into her pretty little face whilst expanding the tight space of her throat. Thranduil spread her thighs wide apart and pushed them over her abdomen, folding her and stretching out her pussy and asshole. He was now hard from rage, revenge, the little elleth slut will pay for humiliating the Royals of the Woodland Realm. Thranduil slowly entered her pussy, then he pulled out and slowly entered her ass. He repeated alternating between the two before settling into her asshole. Watching the taut puckered lips spread so beautifully over his cock, he took two fingers and nestled them deep into her pussy. Nienna was squirming so deliciously over his cock he could hardly contain himself, even after dropping load after load in the tight whore pussy. Legolas kept shoving his cock in her throat enjoying the screams vibrating on his shaft as she struggled to breathe. Soon enough, Thranduil pulled her off his son's cock and went to lie on the bed.

"We're going to stretch this cunt out," was all Thranduil could say and he brought Nienna on top of him. Nienna was crying, her sobs loud enough to warrant a shushing, her lip was torn from prolonged friction. Thranduil placed his cock into her pussy then beckoned his son forward. Legolas crawled onto the bed, his face a picture of confusion.

"If she likes having us both then she can have us both, put your cock in her pussy too," he invited Legolas. Legolas could see his father's cock completely plugging her pussy and tried to slide in but she was so tight. "Put it in, my son, stretch her out."

Somehow her pussy lips expanded further and Nienna howled in pain, Thranduil quickly slapped her face warning her to stay quiet. And slowly but surely Legolas' cock slid further into her pussy, filling her so impossibly. The pain of the stretch could not match the pure ecstasy she felt being filled by her two favourite cocks. Legolas rocked in her as Thranduil thrust upwards, in a heated moment of anger Legolas quickly raked his fingers in her hair to pull the black mass. Together they fought for every inch of space inside her, rubbing against each other lubricated by her juices.

"You will never be Queen – I will not have it." Thranduil growled at her, "I could never let you take her place!"

His words only seemed to make her wetter, Nienna moved with the cocks rocking them deeper inside her. The feeling was magical, the knowledge that she was full of royal cock sent her past ecstasy to a whole other emotion. They continued to fuck her, and when Legolas started to reach around and circle her clit, Nienna burst into an orgasm. Her shudders rocked their manhood but they kept thrusting in her. Torturing her through overstimulation until she was screaming.

"I can't wait to bear your children." She spoke with a wry smile and then elves suddenly pushed her off them.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Father, we've been cumming in her for days, there's no way she won't be pregnant." Legolas began to fret, "we won't even know who the father would be!"

Thranduil lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, the mess they were in was unimaginable.

"Now that I think about it, what difference does it make. She won't be queen, I'll see to that. Come back here Nienna, I'm not finished with you yet." Nienna looked up from her spot on the floor where she was flung onto. Her wide-eyed gaze observing the two males fight over her pussy and it delighted her. In some strange reversal, she held all the power now. Thranduil suddenly grabbed at her hair and pulled her toward the bed. He placed Nienna's little ass on his cock and while she relished her newfound position, she could not help squirming at the exquisite stretch of her King's cock. Legolas looked into the face of his wife then down to her pussy, streams of cum leaking from the hole and not all of it was his. Legolas hated her in that moment and her smug smile, and he quickly entered her pussy. They both thrust in their little minx as she squirmed and cried out at the feeling. Legolas couldn't help his hand wrap around her throat, he hated her for this. For making him feel so inferior, so unloved. It felt like this emotion would never leave his life, he was never good enough!

He fucked her and fucked her with all his rage until he came inside. He saw her pussy had torn from their double penetration, but it did not faze him, she would be torn apart before the morning.

Together father and son kept fucking Nienna in every position they could think of, roughly handling her, smacking her until she cried. When they were too exhausted from their activities, they threw her outside the room where she wailed in pain. Nienna lay by the door as she heard the two males shouting at each other, arguing over how to handle the very idea of her being pregnant. She heard Thranduil's anger lace every word when he called her a whore and Legolas somehow still pleading, calling her his wife in the eyes of all that is holy. Nienna lay back on the cold wood ground, her eyes staring into the black abyss of her mind. What did she want? What felt like hours had passed and Nienna awoke at the sound of the door moving. Legolas, his heart somewhat recovered from his dispassion, came out the door to confront the female.

"I suggest you disappear Nienna, or we will kill before the morn." Legolas' merciful parting words struck Nienna and when her body felt able, she picked herself up and left the chamber. She went to the study room to retrieve her clothes and the trinket and slowly limped down the stairs into the unknown.

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Nienna walked down into the bowels of the palace, unable to face her own quarters just yet. She walked and walked, filled with anguish yet her debasement filled her with deep satisfaction. She was used and it remedied her dilemma, she betrayed her one true love and deserved all the humiliation she got.

She delved down more stairs, further and further into the underground until she reached what looked like prison cells. The cell doors were all wide open and Nienna just walked past them before turning into a cell and sitting on a small wooden plank in the corner. After one deep sigh, she let out a long sob.

Why was she always doing this? Why did she default into a whore every time a male touched her? Why could she not just try to integrate back into society as an elleth?

The questions ran through her head, as they always did when she was released from the powers of her owners. In her newfound freedom there was newfound loss, her identity fragmented without a master to impose one on her. Naturally her departure from Mirkwood is imminent, she would have to inform Maeglin of this.

Perhaps, she could make amends and live a life of solitude with her son whom she had to give up in order to have a new life. Ceroden, meaning safe and precious, the only meaning Nienna could give offer so her son could understand why he was given away. He was too precious to hold in her own arms and she knew she had failed as a mother when she first thought Azog could be any kind of father. He became jealous toward the end of her pregnancy, would not share her even though their traditions demanded it. He just wanted to fill her belly with seed, own her voice which only called out for him, and eventually own her children. It would be no place for a child, not matter how orcish. So she left, without telling Olgin – he had changed drastically after her marriage, perhaps because he could no longer fuck her – and ran into the night. Her status as wife and compliant slave gave her an unprecedented amount of trust with the orcs. They truly believed she would never try to escape, that she enjoyed her humiliation, enjoyed sucking any cock in her face.

It was days of hiking and running before she ended up in West Mirkwood, filthy from her expedition. Ceroden was born just days later and swiftly removed from her breast.

"Hello?" A hoarse voice called out, "is someone there?"

The tone had a hint of Orcishness, familiar to Nienna. "Hello?"

The voice called out from a crack in the wall behind her. Nienna turned around and saw the long-jagged crack across the back wall of the cell. Her fingers lightly traced the indents until she found a large hole in which she could peer through.

Pressing an eye to the hole she looked on at an orc sat in another room, it was looking at her through the crack.

"What do you want?" She asked in an orcish tongue. The orc seemed taken aback but replied similarly.

"Get me out – that red head bitch is a monster!"

Nienna was not sure if she heard correctly, the darkness of the room covered the orc.

"Come in to the light." The orc stood up and the light behind her illuminated the orc's face. She gasped loudly and scrambled quickly to cover her mouth. She could not believe it. Green eyes, patchy but long black hair…

"Ceroden!" She exclaimed.

The orc jumped back at her loud tone, "Quiet she-elf, the captain will be back soon. Let me out!"

Nienna could barely contain herself, she was not even sure. How could the baby be near full grown? It had only been over a year or maybe longer. She turned to the side and picked up a nearby rock and started smashing the wall. The stone began to crumble and a hole large enough for the orc to climb through formed.

"Come through, I must see you!" Exclaimed Nienna.

The orc squeezed through the gap and entered her cell, its figure was broad and terrifying but Nienna was only elated.

"You are no mere orc, are you?" Nienna asked.

"I am a mixed breed, elf and orc." He replied.

"Who are your parents?"

"My father is Azog, leader of our pack and my mother…died. He says she was very beautiful; she was his wife."

Nienna bowed her head, Azog really loved her in his own sick twisted way. She turned to look at the orc again, the green eyes shone even brighter and Nienna fingered a few strands of its hair.

"You don't recognise me?" She asked impishly. "Ceroden?"

The orc looked at her and suddenly saw her green eyes, her long black hair.

"Why do I look like you?" His breath caught at the sight of her.

"I am your mother, Ceroden."

"My mother died a year ago, I am not Ceroden. I am Fiengar."

Nienna stepped back, shocked at the revelation. There was no way this was not her son, albeit he was much older than anticipated but elf-orc children are so rare no one knows how they grow.

"You look just like how my son would look," she whispered.

"My mother was a she-elf, that is true. She looked just like you but she raised me until some villagers killed her in a skirmish. She was Azog's second wife, from the lands near Lorien."

It was clearer now, Azog was not just in love with her, he was obsessed with her.

"How many wives does he have? How many of them look like me?" She near screamed.

Fiengar was struck by her tone but she looked so much like mama that he could not dare to return the same energy. Like an obedient child he responded.

"Now he has two wives, both are human. Yes they are green eyed with black hair."

It hit her like a tonne of bricks, like blinding light. Azog's obsession needed to be stopped. He was pillaging other females who looked like her. Taking them for himself to satiate this desire he brought on himself. Or did she do this? Did her begging and debasement give so great a pleasure that no other could be saved from his barbarous desire?

She had made him more a monster than ever, now it is time to stop him.


	9. Stillwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!

Dusky Mirkwood, empty shell of lush greenery.

Mercy me.

Can I be saved? Hollow whispers reached the tip of her tongue yet remain unuttered. Her honour tied to her guilt married in shame. Mercy me.

Every thought spilt about her lips like solemn prayers to some higher deity that Nienna had lost connection with. The fear for her soul was now all-consuming, it was surely lost to great males of Middle Earth. At times she would see the gentle streams vein the forest floor or hear the humdrum of birdsong above her pointed ears and think so dearly of her parents. Their love and protection nurtured her and if they had not left, she would still be their darling elleth. But they had, their abrupt departure and her sudden wardship with Lord Elrond threw her. Oh, and how she had fallen. The process was linear, one male to the next, her sexual desire weaponised, her body too weak to fight them.

Nienna turned to her right, the glittering stream flowing past her reflecting the dull sunset. Fiengar walked a couple of paces in front of her. Tall with the orcish hunch, his broad-shouldered body covered in Azog-blue skin. He was the perfect warrior.

Does Ceroden look like this?

"Tell me about your mother, Fiengar." Nienna's voice high and lilting.

A long silence stretched between them and Nienna nearly regretted bringing up his deceased mother.

"She looked like you and nothing like you at the same time….if that makes sense." His words unsure, "she was more beautiful than all the flowers of Lorien. More a mother than the sun herself."

A small smile appeared on her lips, she understood that feeling. A mother is like the sun to a child, mysterious, nurturing, godly. Her own mother felt that way to her for a time.

"I'm sorry about how she died, I'm sorry she was even captured like that I-"

"She willingly married my father, she was honoured to be his wife!" Fiengar's voice raised with trepidation, angered at the thought of anyone sullying the memory of his mother.

"I'm sorry!" Nienna held up her hands in surrender, "I should not have assumed."

"Her loyalty to my father is what got her killed and I'll kill the elf scum responsible, that Captain and the Prince."

Nienna bit her tongue, her abdomen warmed at the memory of sharing that elf scum with his father. Some more time fell between them, Fiengar took it upon himself to scout ahead for any of his brothers and Nienna lagged behind. Mirkwood trees started to thin out and the bright sunshine filtering between the leaves began to burn harsh beams around her. She wondered how far she could go if she ran away. The trinket settled in the cloak pocket she could touch it and run, run all the way back to Rivendell and this would just be forgotten. No one would look for her there. It seemed easy, her fingers reached deeper and deeper into the pocket until the heat of the trinket near scalded her.

"Ow!" She yelped. She reached back into her pocket, but the heat had dissipated.

"What's going on?" Fiengar came back through the trees, he had a sword unsheathed.

"What? Nothing, you got a sword?"

"Yes, my slain brethren are up ahead, we are close to the satellite camp."

Nienna walked forward and together they continued on toward orc territory.

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Nienna lay on her back, her new dress pooled about her thighs. She was back again, but this time was different.

"Dear wife has anyone spread these precious thighs, lain with you?" Nienna continued to look up at the ceiling of the camp tent. There was no point in lying, in fact it might be quite interesting to see how Azog responds to her infidelity. Would he release her from her duty and send her back to be ravaged by his brothers but end his obsession with her? Or would he kill her and end all the suffering so she could taste sweet respite? She liked both paths, they led to a similar happiness.

"Yes."

Azog flared his nostrils, unbelieving of her.

"Don't lie little one, I need an answer."

She smirked; he wanted the answer of a terrified slave. She could tell in his voice, his absurdly self-assured tone that his power could not be challenged. He has never known true pain, not the kind that rips your heart. His body was covered in scars, but his heart had never worked a day in its life.

"If you think I have not whored myself to those elves like have with your brothers, then you are mistaken." Her voice was clear, flowing like the stream she fell into all those days ago.

Azog took deep deliberate breaths, his voice growling inside the tent. He took a turn about the space, hands pulsing with unadulterated rage trying to grab at anything he could. His hand snapped a wooden table leg beside the entrance then he suddenly flipped the whole table on its side.

"You. Are. LYING." His roar would have piqued the interest of the entire camp. But Nienna continued to lie on her back and stare at the apex of the tent ceiling where all the sticks crisscrossed together. He came to her, kneeled at her feet at the end of the bed, his eyes trying to draw her attention, but she did not move.

"You are my wife, no others," he was exasperated and scared, his tone gave away his hurt, "you must not lie because you are angry with me."

So, this is how you have abided your actions, she thought, this is how your obsession started.

"I have never been angry with you, Master, but I am not lying. I had three elves, including the Prince and King."

Azog roared again, he was close to losing it, she felt the shaking orc vibrate the whole tent.

"You are lying, why would they want you, you are no royal, no lineage of value. Not even an innocent."

The last word triggered something in her, set her tears from her eyes which fell into the animal pellet beneath her.

"I believe both of them were laying their seed inside me all of yesterday if you wanted to check." Nienna sat up on her elbows, her mouth contorted into a wry smile. If this is how she dies, destroying the heart of this monster, she'd gladly fall.

Azog hurriedly lifted her skirt and brought his mutilated nose to her pussy. He inhaled right in between her lips and Nienna swore she saw his eyebrows crumple in realisation. There was no mistaking the smell, she caught a whiff of it from where she was. The musk of royals no less.

"I will kill them, for taking my wife." His words were simple, "they like taking my wives."

He breathed deeply, reliving that savage memory in his mind. "They took our child, didn't they?"

Nienna's breath caught and she nodded, "it was my choice, now he has a better life."

"He's here, you stupid whore," Azog saw her instant surprise and capitalised, "his bright green eyes gave him away and I brought him home."

Home.

Nienna's plan began to unravel, Ceroden was here. She saw him in her mind's eye for the first time, tall and broad-shouldered like Fiengar but somehow more Elvish. He had a charming smile and long, thin nose which he'd bury into books with large maps. Ceroden, warrior and intellectual, Prince and General.

"Bring him to me at once!" Nienna's maternal desires renewed and she sat straight up in the bed. It was time to shelter him from the violent world of Orcs, save him from being a monster like his father.

Azog only laughed, his eyes narrowed, and crawled over her until he was face to face with his wife. He trailed a large digit up and between her trembling thighs, pausing where he sought to take her. The delicate lips parted like rose petals at his touch and Nienna could only gasp as her pussy began to gush.

"Only if you stay, commit to your duties as wife at the penalty of death." Azog was always straightforward, Nienna missed the flowery words of her third husband.

"Wife, I remember how you looked to me," Azog whispered in her ear, slyly smirking, "proud of how well you serviced me. Eager to let me fill you, in front of all others."

Nienna's cheeks felt aflame with shame, it was true of course. She had desired nothing more to be brutalised by him, especially when his girthy member plugged and stretched her so well. He was an animal in every sense of the word, he encompassed everything a female of her position was entitled to. With a brave hand, she reached below him, sliding his loincloth to the side with practised deft fingers. She found his engorged cock, too large for her own dainty hand but she encircled the shaft and began to work him. Azog's eyes followed her own and her mounting desire became evident on her face. Her other hand fell to her pussy where Azog's hand was and together she massaged her clit as he pumped his fingers in her wet pussy. Nienna could barely keep her eyes open, the pleasure was too strong, and she felt lost in his touch.

"Master," was all she could muster.

"Little one become my wife again," Azog's whispered, "I will give you what you seek."

Nienna cared little for his games and brought the tip of his penis toward her entrance. She took out his exploring fingers ready for his member. But Azog straddled her and grabbed her wrists bringing them to the sides of her head.

"I will always win." He said, his jaw extending wider from his arrogant smile.

Nienna's eyes began to well up, this was supposed to be easy. She was supposed to taunt him, destroy him but now her son... Her ruin was a straight shot, but her redemption was impossible.

"I will accept on one condition," she breathed, Azog lifted his head to look at her, "you will release your wives and there will be no others but me."

Azog grinned, "are you jealous? Pretty elleth you have always been my favourite."

"No one else." Nienna remained resolute, if he believed it jealousy then she could not help this delusional orc.

"I accept," Azog breathed as he slowly slid into her. Ever ready to receive him, Azog could not hold back his delight at the little elleth who had snuck back into his bed.

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The Elvenking's Halls were decorated voraciously with the overwhelming bloom of white lilies. The smell alone drove King Thranduil into a state of permanent nostalgia. He could not escape his dead wife, her sleeping face haunted his steps, sometimes he even heard her whispering laugh echo throughout the dark corners. Thranduil felt his chest empty and inflate with guilt, how he greedily and incessantly slobbered like a common dog over that elleth. He potentially sullied his family line and he could not protect Legolas. He could not save him from her enchanting beauty. No male could resist enslavement by her pussy, not even he. He missed his dead wife more than ever.

"Speak."

"I am frightfully speechless, your highness," Maeglin muttered, "I do not believe all that you say is true."

"Believe me, I want to find that whore, I want to annihilate her family and all those who sent that snipe into my bed." Thranduil was shaking, his hand reaching for the nightmarish vision of her that plagues his every sense. "She must be executed before-"

"Before, sire?" Maeglin inquired.

"Before any detectable hint of pregnancy appears." Thranduil finished before settling back into his seat. The gravity of his words silenced the room, to kill her if she was with child would be a crime so severe, his legitimacy as ruler would be called into question.

"Father, I have married her."

"So you keep saying, Legolas, it won't save her. Only we three and she know of this marriage."

"And Tauriel."

"Oh, help me, how many people know!?" Thranduil threw his head back exasperated.

"The Royal Advisor, Captain of the army, and the King of Mirkwood. The only people who need to know already do!" Legolas countered. Their pale blue eyes locked in on one another.

"Why are you so ready to claim her, knowing what she's done? Knowing I laid with her within the first few hours of your marriage."

Legolas turned away; his heart burned in his chest. His father was correct, he should hate her. He felt like falling to the floor and crying out into the void, calling to the West to take him from the hell he had forged for himself. But something about this seemed unnatural. She was happy, herself, and dedicated to him. She was his and willingly so. Legolas knew his father, forceful and inconsiderate to the feelings of others. She might not have wanted to…But the memory of her screaming for more, begging for his father, his father was better. Legolas could hardly stand it. Thranduil couldn't punish her without involving him, plugging her cunt. He had to have her again even after he knew she was his wife.

"She is mine. You will not have her again; her soul is mine in marriage and if you harm her then I must kill you." Legolas spoke with such venom he was afraid of his father's response.

"Legolas – I am King. If I want to choke her on my cock before the entire kingdom, I will. Wife or not."

Legolas could not stomach it any longer, he stormed out of the room without a look back.

"Hm, Maeglin, tell me what you know about her." His indifferent tone reset the room.

Maeglin stepped forward and cleared his throat.

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Prince Legolas stormed through the front doors of the Elvenking's palace, his longbow in hand and rations packed in a satchel, he was going to save his wife. His own father was so dedicated to his mother, so in love with her, even when she was ill he would not leave her side. Legolas knew in his heart it was time to save his own wife, love her the same, and hope to all higher powers she was unharmed.

"Prince! Wait!" Tauriel shouted behind him, she ran from the palace to his side. "Patrols are not for another day while the scouts reassess."

"I'm not patrolling Tauriel, I'm going to save my wife." Legolas carried on walking, more determined than ever to find her.

"What's happened, is she not in her chambers?"

Legolas sighed, he looked onto his red headed friend and knew that he could trust her. Maybe she could even help.

"Tauriel, she was banished." Legolas kept walking between the tall forest trees.

"What?! By who?"

"Father."

"Legolas you need to give me more information, I'll help you. I always have your back, but I need to know why." Tauriel's glinting eyes were so genuine that Legolas felt guilty.

"Tauriel – She, she lay with my father, within hours of our marriage she went to him or maybe he summoned her. But she lay with him and she has been laying with him. Father banished her once he found out we were married."

They kept walking whilst Tauriel processed the information. It was a lot to process. She kept trying to find the words to comfort her Prince but there were none.

"I am sorry Legolas."

"And now I am tied to that whore for the rest of my life."

Tauriel grabbed him and pulled him into a deep hug, she felt his body tremble uncontrollably as he began to sob. She felt so sorry for him, trapped in a marriage with someone like that. Tauriel knew she was trouble from the beginning.

"I will help you Legolas, I will always help you." Legolas regained his composure and kept walking. Tauriel fast behind him as the travelled deeper into the shadows of Mirkwood. "How do you know where she went?"

"I don't know but she will not be far, it's only been a few hours." Legolas sighed.

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"Their lives are nothing to their people, they would be cast out as orc whores. Father did them a service." Were Fiengar's attempt at comforting words.

Nienna cried into her hands having watched Azog kill the two common folk women. One resembled her quite closely it shook Nienna to the core. Azog was brutal and savage, but even he could not be without mercy. One had just given birth and the newborn did not survive, another death to add to the ever-growing list. Nienna decided resolutely to give her whole heart to Azog for full access to their son. That meant getting rid of the other women, just…not like this. Anna and Fiona, daughters of Wilder men, whose villages were pillaged and whose faces gave them a second chance at life. She spoke to Anna, the one who had the stillborn, about Azog and what had happened in the camp.

Nienna's 'abduction' was a key priority for all orc brothers who were sent into Mirkwood looking for her. The shiver Nienna experienced came from that vivid memory at Miner's Waterfall. The orcs had recognised her, they had come to take her if it wasn't for Legolas' protection. All those orc scouts, all for her. Anna said not many orcs came back and Azog was planning to scale war against the elves to save her. The act even the thought was in some small way heart-warming, but Anna spoke of Azog's violence. How he brutalised her, night after night, angry at why she couldn't just enjoy all the cock she could have. Anna said she hated it, hated being degraded like that. She hated swallowing cum like a drain, she felt like killing herself a few times. She thanked the gods her father was dead. Nienna had no words to comfort her because as sad she was for Anna, she was the one who enjoyed it and set the precedent for the other wives. It was her fault Anna wanted to die.

Then Anna spoke of her son, she called him charming. Ceroden was called something else in the camp, a horrible garble of twisted black speech and Nienna ordered for it to be stopped. Their son was not an orc, he was a half-breed, a warrior and so precious to her. Nienna felt it in her very bones to protect the child, as a mother should.

Azog turned to her from the far edge of the camp where he ordered the execution. He did a low bow in acknowledgement, to taunt that his end of the bargain was complete. Nienna sobbed more, there was little to be gained in this battle against him.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a tall, muscular frame walk toward her. Nienna turned to the side wiping her tears away and then made to go back into Azog's tent.

"Mother?"

Nienna could hardly breathe, every fibre in her knowing when she would turn around everything would be different. So she turned, drinking in the sight of the impossibly tall half-orc male. Broad-shouldered with long black hair, he had deep green eyes. His face was angular with Azog's wide nose. He could hardly be mistaken.

"Ceroden?" He smiled at the name and came forward. He had such a moderate temperament, unlike Fiengar.

"My son," Nienna embraced him, he was so big! Her arms could only get around his chest, she wished she could have watched him grow up. He hugged her back, his chin resting on the top of her head, he played with the black strands of her hair.

"Come, we have plenty to discuss."

"Father said you were taken by the elves in Mirkwood, there they sequestered you away so he could not rescue you."

Nienna half-laughed but struggled with her words. How much could she say before getting into trouble?

"But I know he is wrong, I know he sent you away, I-"

"Ceroden, I will never lie to you or hide the truth behind flowery words. But you must trust me, I left because I thought there was a chance at saving you from this life. I have no idea how or why I ended up being found at Mirkwood, but it happened. I was saved by an elf and my fate was sealed. There was no decent way to raise you in elvish society, not without great harm to yourself. So, I was promised you would be raised by a family who would maintain the secret and you would be safe."

Ceroden contemplated this new information for a moment, his deft fingers rubbing against this blue-skinned chin.

"So you chose to leave father?"

"Yes, it was my choice."

"Why would you, you were going into the Wild unprotected."

"It was worse here, nothing out there was as bad as here. You must believe me."

Nienna thought over what she had said. Was staying with Azog truly that horrible? If it meant her son would be fed, clothed, and trained? She would be brought low, debased but she would have wife status and considering how her body affected Azog, she would not have been shared. She ate three meals a day, slept until noon, and only worried about how swollen her nether lips had gotten. It was an easy life. But her son, watching his mother in the daily assaults of her body. The orcs getting to see her cunt spread wide for their leader and spill his seed all over the ground. Ceroden would think females like being treated that way and she would have to watch him hurt another female like that. Ceroden would be as mindless and insensible as his orc half, he would not pursue arts or science but would pillage and plunder like a savage.

"You, unlike many of your orc brethren, have the capacity to be a greater being than a violent conqueror. You can read, write, learn…you could be so intelligent and cultured. You are able to even walk on snow without disturbing the flakes beneath your feet-"

"Like an elf?"

"Yes, like an elf."

"Mother, mother I think I understand. But I have been here a long time, Fiengar is my brother, my true brother. His mother took care of me also when she was alive. I have seen more kindness and happiness here than I ever did in the care of that family…

They are not the sort of people who you would describe as loving. They were common folk and lived just north of here. They made no real attempt to preserve my identity and within three months I was delivered to this camp."

"You are my real mother, but my true mother died in battle in trying to save father." Ceroden stood up and went to the tent entrance but turned to look back at the shocked elleth.

"I will serve you as a son, but only because I must." And with that, he was gone.

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Two Months Later…

The sky raged in orange and red hues smeared across the wide canvas. The mix of colour reflected off the large river by the end of the camp where Nienna wandered into the water, her clothes strewn by the banks. The wolf whistles echoed from East to West as the orc soldiers clambered from their tents to watch their queen bathe in the salty water of Giadden River. She felt their piercing hot gazes drape her wet skin, their lust searing hot. She could feel hundreds of hands desperately wanting to touch her, desperately parting her nether lips over and over in their dirty little minds. Some days she wished she could be ravaged by them, but Azog would find out. His spies made sure her cunt had round the clock protection, she was, after all, carrying the next heir.

But in this fleeting moment of freedom, she basked in their imaginations. Taking the gentle river water in her cupped hands and massaging the temperate water over her swelling breasts. Lathering the soap bar between her hands and letting her hands slowly and deliberately paint her skin in suds. She washed her hair, making sure to bend over and thoroughly rinse out any excess soap. Her legs were parted as she leant forward, her pussy on display for all the orcs to see. They collectively groaned when she stood back up to squeeze the water out of her hair and she carried on washing the rest of her body. Soon she came out of the water and sat on the bank, no intention of clothing herself. The sky was much darker now, the only light left was from the fading sun in the West. The wind was softer now, too, and the gentle breeze reminded her of the little kisses Legolas planted on her cheeks. Her lightly shivering hands snaked over her hips and she pressed against the already hardened nub nestled between her nether lips. She could imagine him so clearly, light blonde hair tucked behind his pointed ears. His dazzling smile reflecting the perfect Mirkwood sun. He made her shiver with delight every time he said her name. He was a fairy tale.

Suddenly, a hot mouth covered her right breast and Nienna yelped in fright.

"Hush, wife, I have come to help you."

Azog sat behind her, his legs enclosing her body and his long arms had no difficulty in finding her sopping wet pussy. He gently played with one digit, testing her tightness and she tightened around him every time.

"Always wet thinking of me, exquisite creature." Azog moaned in her ear. Nienna loved his thick finger plugging her, a sign of what was to come. His other arm wrapped behind her back and onto her other breast. Massaging the thick, heavy mound until Nienna was moaning and squirming.

"Master please…" she was breathless.

Azog smugly grinned behind her, the past two months have been absolutely perfect. Now she carried the next heir, everything he had hoped for was now achieved. Nienna took this opportunity to swivel onto her front and push Azog onto his back. Her small hips straddled his wide frame and before Azog could react she planted as loving a kiss as she could manage. Her hips gyrated and moved over his hardening cock and she could feel her juices coat the girthy member.

"I want you to watch me," Nienna said in black speech. She guided the head of his cock to her entrance and looked into his eyes as she slowly, carefully lowered herself on him. He couldn't help his moan and tight Nienna slid down him. He was perfectly and impossibly wide. She raised her hips and lowered them in a rocking motion, following a rhythm in her body she set free. Azog's body, coated in scars and bruises, seemed so beautiful. Thick muscled and powerful underneath her little pregnant body. He cupped her belly, rubbing a loving hand over the curve.

She quickly began to increase her speed, her hips moving on their own.

"Master." She called, the wind carrying her voice over the camp. Azog grunted, her hips were not enough for him.

"Enough," he roared. And she gently turned her onto her back, one protective hand over her belly. He back to rock into her, their eyes never breaking their lock. Nienna's body began to shudder and vibrate, Azog kissing her open mouth as they panted. His girth stretching her out as he became ready to pump his seed into her belly. And in a flash of light, Nienna's orgasm shook her whole body, her cunt overflowing with cum already. Azog touched his sweating forehead to hers, sweet laughter as his cock throbbed in her cunt making her belly feel like it would explode. She kissed him, holding his large head in her hands, and kissed him more. Slowly he picked her up, letting her head rest on his shoulder all the while not letting his cock escape her cunt as he carried her back to the tent.

Across the water, behind some trees on the banks of the river, Legolas aimed his arrow. His hand trembling from the intense passion he witnessed. But he shut one eye, breathed in and out then in and out, whispering:

"Time to come home, wife."


	10. The Trinket

From dark to light, dawn to dusk – the days blurred in endless hues of wakefulness and torturous sleep. Some nights were so unbearably warm next to the lump of blue flesh next to her that Nienna often snuck out of the tent and into the encampment. No one was around, no one wanted to be as Azog would take his queen loudly and sometimes for hours. The space between the tent and the rest of the world seemed to only grow along with her swelling belly.

Nienna sat in the tent in growing isolation, the feeling of despair clouded her every thought. Her belly was too big for how far along she was, and it began to settle in her mind that she was having another Orc child. It broke her heart as she stared endlessly into the crisscross of the wooden poles at the apex of the tent. The image of the ceiling of the tent was ingrained in her brain, the crisscrossing as convoluted as her thoughts. Each day passing in her cloth-covered prison, eating her meals alone, waiting to be fucked by her husband. If this was hell, Nienna knew she had earned her place here.

On the occasional day, when Nienna felt a modicum of self-esteem she doubted her position. The acceptance of her future as an Orc Queen, producing above-average warriors for a tyrant leader would eat at her. Some days the fear of her body breaking from birthing one too many mixed children made her skin feel thin, breakable. Every day that passed her body felt more fragile and her heart felt weak. She looked at her left hand sometimes, where the ring used to encircle her finger. The gentle pressure of the ring could be felt even now, even when she sat alone in Azog's tent, miles and miles away.

Each day, each day…a painful cycle of suffering in a million ways.

"My queen?" A face peered through the tent entrance. Nienna saw it was Fiengar and her face cracked into a smile.

"Enter." He walked in before fastening the entrance shut bringing with him a thatched bag on his back. He gave a low bow, his long black hair cascading about his face as he bent lower and lower. Nienna still could not believe how much he looked like her.

"I bring offerings," his mouth grew into a smile as he brought the bag to her and opened it. There was some food parcels, clothes and jewellery most likely taken from a recent raid. Sometimes she wished Ceroden was the one to bring her his loot, it was a tradition for a son to bring an offering to his Queen and mother. But Ceroden…she had scarcely seen him. She knew he hated her, confounded by her choices, he did not understand what it meant to be female in this world. Alone and with a child that looked like him…she had no choice. He could never understand.

"Thank you Fiengar," the half-orc kneeled as he brought the offering to her and Nienna smiled as she accepted it. He bowed his head as is tradition while she placed the bag to the side. Nienna returned to the bed and sat on the edge to look at the bowing second son. Unlike his father, there was a certain Elvish charm to his face and body. Tall, muscular with gentle eyes and a shapely mouth, his mother must have been so absolutely beautiful.  
Nienna lifted a barefoot until a toe touched his chin, bringing his face up to view hers.

"I trust you are not needed back soon?" Her eyes glinted with mischief. Fiengar smiled knowingly and raised himself from the floor to stand over her. He walked closer to the bed, stalking Nienna like a predator as she moved back across the sheets.

"Is there a task you would have me do, my Queen?" He crawled over her body, his burgeoning erection gliding over her thigh. His face came to hers and she all that was innocent in his eyes, a deep desire to please her and hold her. Nienna knew why he came to her, although she knew he did not quite understand why he was so attached initially. It seemed like it could be put up to typical animalistic behaviour, seeking a maternal influence where one could find it. Then warped by the power Nienna exuded, the power that seduces any male.  
She leant forward to kiss him, his lips pressed against hers in a sweet kiss. Her hands wrapped around his back as the kiss deepened. She felt his heavy press on her pregnant belly, and she gasped at the pressure.

"Careful," she whispered, "don't hurt your little brother." Fiengar lifted and returned, his body gentler against hers as he kissed her again. They lay wrapped in each other for what felt like an eternity, her heart soaring at the subtle touch of Fiengar's innocently probing fingers. As eager as his father to be between her thighs but without the practiced cautiousness. His hands caressed her skin, lips kissed up and down her body worshipping as much skin as was exposed to him. Soon he was undressed and slowly entering her, his movements meant to inspire as much pleasure in Nienna's so that he could watch her orgasm all over his cock.

"My Queen," he'd revere as he'd rock into her, kissing her legs as they rested on his shoulders. Nienna felt him throb in her, urgently expanding her, ripening in her. He was desperate to watch her cum and in Fiengar she saw how he struggled for her approval, for her love. He watched, his hips rotating and her eyes fluttered as each nerve ending sparked alive. She moulded around him, gripping and milking him dry.

"Good boy," she breathed, "just like that."

Her gentle urgings stimulated something latent within him, something he'd lost long ago. His heart thundered in his chest as he watched her cum, the sweet vibrations echo throughout her body. The pulsating grip of her pussy and her sweet words gave him release and he collapsed beside her.

Their labouring breathing was the only noise in the tent and Nienna closed her eyes basking in the glow of her orgasm. She turned to her side and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"You've pleased me greatly, young one." Fiengar turned to her with a soft smile and gave Nienna a long kiss filled with all his love.

It was not long before Fiengar departed the tent, a sudden fear that Azog would appear inspiring his exit. Nienna watched the young male leave, the bag of offerings still beside the bed. She knew their relationship was illicit and she secretly hoped Azog would walk in on their lovemaking. She hoped to hurt Azog, break his heart in his own bed. But all these secret meetings showed her was that Fiengar was the one she would be hurting. He loved her in his own warped way. Nienna knew that there was no happy ending for them.

And with his departure, the torment resumed. The infinite, timeless space where Nienna could only remember and forget and remember again, all her decisions and all her wishful thinking. Then the thundering footsteps would come and Nienna's eyes wouldn't leave the ceiling until Azog stood over her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Middle Earth spun in harmony with the quick, quiet, and vengeful forces trembling the loaming soil. The heavy stamping feet of the orcs vibrating above and around, crumbling the brittle branches of a perching nest. The world is drowning in the chaos that swirls in Nienna's burgeoning belly. The fate of two peoples and their way of life rested on a gamble, a chance. Some nights felt like two hammers drummed in her abdomen, alternating their strikes so she could find no reprieve. Her chest tightened as her eyes flew open in the night, the walls of the tent billowing in the crosswinds. Her body was immobile as if trapped by an invisible paralysing force. Her eyes darted around the dark space, noting the gentle rise and fall of the large male next to her. With all her strength she tried to shift her body, even just a little bit but to no avail. A panic started in her chest, her body seemed completely isolated from her brain and a looming weight of some invisible force slowly began to push her further into the bed. Its gentle weight dragging itself from her legs to her pelvis before crushing onto her chest. It was enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. Nienna tried to open her mouth to scream but she could not move, her jaw would not unhinge, and her throat remained relaxed in its skin encasement.

"Nienna," a fleeting whisper harmonising with the bitter wind swirled about her ears.  
Nienna's body perked up as a warm glowing light grew in intensity from the far side of the room. The glow projected strange markings all over the tent walls and the brighter the glow became the faster Nienna began to understand.  
The markings sharpened from fuzzy blurs into fine Elvish script, the kind that was so old no one could ever decipher it. The script covered the billowing tent walls, curling on the turbulent waves of the fabric.

With clearer eyes Nienna focused on the source of the glow, hidden by a shelf perched on the end; the trinket. The lid flipped open suddenly and out of the pores came wafting swirls of grey, dark smoke falling to the ground, unmoved by the strong wind. The smoke travelled slowly across the floor. It twirled about the objects in its path and Nienna watched with panicked eyes as it made its way to her. As the smoke reached the bed it twisted and vorticed into a tall, imposing figure. The greys hollowed or densified to create a ghostly face on top of a large, statuesque body wrapped in sorcerer's cloth and sewn leather coverings. An imposing staff magicked beside the figure which the being held with a large hand. The ghostly face morphed into helmet, the eye holes were small but somehow Nienna knew it could see all. She lay in fear of the large figure as it looked over her incapacitated body. Her pregnancy covered in furs stretched over skin leaving little else for her other areas.

"A sweet offering," the voice was as hollow as the being itself, deep and vibrating throughout the room. It hardly disturbed the sleeping orc next to her. "You have performed very well little one."

The figure reached forward; its murky hand stretched over the swollen belly. The figure ruminated as it penetrated her mind and body.

"Twins," his lip curled smugly, "different fathers."

Nienna tried to move but her fear mounted and continued to paralyse her limbs. Nienna tried to speak but the being moved the staff slightly and a sudden chokehold fell upon Nienna's neck.

"Not yet, not yet." His voice was dripping saccharine sweet and he delivered a deep sigh as his eyes perused her body, "you are still the most exquisite offering in a hundred years."

His eyes once again roamed her body and like a trained dog Nienna could not help her reaction. Her body was so responsive to lust and debasement, even a strange ball of smoke could arouse her.

"I reveal myself to you know, little one, as a warning. My patience has borne me an opportunity to serve my master once again in delivering him the power to rule Middle Earth. I have waited and waited for the perfect offering and nothing could have pleased me more when I found you."

Nienna felt the smoke crawl onto the bed and over the pelts onto her skin. The smoke had a grainy texture that scratched at her softness, yet she was still immobile. She looked onto the face of the figure, her confusion obvious to the spectral being. Her thoughts were loud and fearful.

"I understand your fear, Nienna. There is much to be revealed to you." The greys of the murky figure began to colour and materialise a man from the smoke. Its pale skin solid under the robes, every hair on its head peeking through its hat. Nienna saw the figure become a tall, dark-eyed and black-haired wizard-like being. Its hair cut off at its shoulder framing its ageless face.  
"I have tied my life force to the fate of the twins, my reign as their leader shall commence soon."

Nienna realised in that moment, different fathers.

"Yes Nienna, exactly that. One full royal elf child, one half-orc half-elf. You are the vessel for Kings, the catalyst of the greatest army and union in all Middle Earth." Nienna remained wide-eyed at the realisation. She was going to unite orcs and the woodland elves in some unholy alliance.

"Now that I have conveyed the distinct nature of your position, I must warn you. You must not tell anyone, and you must not anger Azog further." The figure sent a probing gaze.

"I know of your visits to the second born," Nienna blushed in deep shame, "it must end immediately. You must keep your duty to your husband, Azog." The figure trailed a finger over her swollen breast, its peak hardening at the soft touch. It trailed all the way down through the gaps between the pellets until it dipped between her waiting sheath. "Although…I, too, have desired this."

He licked his lips before tensing his jaw and Nienna saw his face turn toward her. His bottomless dark eyes absorbing her gaze as the finger breached her opening. Its exploration was slow and stifled by her tight grip.  
"You are such a delightful offering," the being returned his hand to lightly grasp at his growing arousal, "I have watched you open yourself for all sorts of males, watched you for years as you gladly received them."

Nienna wished wholeheartedly that she could turn away, her shame evident in every expression her face could muster. But her gaze was focused on the male in front of her who wanted to consume every part of her.  
"You have performed perfectly and for your service, the Dark Lord will grant you protection."

A soft pause fluttered between them in the stillness of the tent. The orc next to her was as unmoving as always. Nienna's head was swimming with questions, thoughts, and her insurmountable fear of the being next to her. Her immobile body began to shake and tremble as if slowly breaking free.

"Y-y-you did thiss?" Nienna tried to force the words out of her mouth and she watched as the figure threw his head back and laughed.

"Of course! The males always wanted you, I just helped some of them in taking what they so desired." Nienna's eyes widened, "its so easy to manipulate an aroused male. And you... you were easy to teach. You may have been hard to break but you are the greatest whore of all Middle Earth."  
Nienna's breath came out in pants, her whole world began spinning. It was him all along, forcing her to be raped over and over and making enjoy it. Her heart thumped viciously in her chest but the dark being grabbed her face bringing her eyes to look at him.

"Remember Nienna, your part to play is not over yet. You carry the single greatest commodity of all Middle Earth. I will be watching."

In a quick burst of light all the smoke in the room was sucked back into the trinket and the lid fell shut. Nienna felt the pressure of her restraints immediately removed and her breath came out heaving. Her hand flew to her pregnant stomach, gently caressing the bump with a million thoughts rushing through her head.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

"Friend, I have longed to see you." Thranduil greeted the familiar elf. "It has been many moons since the great Lord Elrond graced my halls."

Elrond smiled, distrustful of his kin who is known for his callousness. The Elvenking's Halls had remained much the same, the high throne situated above them all in the vast wooden cavern. The King stood by his advisor and captain who had congregated around a small table set for five.

"Yes, and I regret the circumstances of my visit." Elrond's voice remained levelled and stood impervious with his long brown hair twisted in delicate decorative strands. This visit could not be delayed, Elrond knew the second he saw the summons. It contained a name that had not been uttered in years.

Nienna

His whole heart plummeted when he read her name, the cursive scrawl on parchment brought hope to his heart. He set off within days of receiving the news and with a small crew of elves he set off for Mirkwood. Lord Elrond spent much of the journey wondering what had happened to her, how she ended up in Mirkwood, how she even managed to survive entering the forest since the wood-elves were so secretive and just so ruthless. His years of wisdom and experience led him to believe she was in trouble, the worst sort. Cavorting with lower elves and alone. Elrond had been in the palace for a few hours with his own entourage who had taken position behind the meeting table. The atmosphere felt awkward, Captain Tauriel, who Elrond met first at the great entrance, stood with her eyes lowered as if in deep thought. And Royal Advisor Maeglin was sat by some parchment, reading through some writing, his eyes glued to the words. The entire setup was offensive and without unity, it scared him.

"I must say your letter startled me; I am aware you know of my ward Nienna but what has brought her here?" Elrond began, his face creased in worry. King Thranduil gestured to the table and the remaining elves took their seats. Thranduil adjusted his crown, his face passive as he tried to read the high Elf. Lord Elrond did not fear him nor did Thanrduil fear Elrond, but it was intimidating to be in the presence of someone of high birth. Mustering all the charm he possessed the King reclined in his seat which was larger and more decorated than the others. He settled his hands on the armrests and carefully observed the other elf.

"Ah, you see that is precisely the question I am trying to acquire the answer to myself."

Elrond's posture turned defensive. Nienna could never have done anything so as to warrant a meeting with the King and yet, here he was.

"She is an innocent, I assure you. Whatever you are accusing her of cannot be evidenced, I know her."

"Then explain how she has managed to come to Mirkwood pregnant with an orc mutt, laid with my son the Prince of Mirkwood, married him, not before lying with myself as well." The sentence fell from Thranduil's mouth like a waterfall. The words strung together in an impossible combination that Elrond felt he had hardly heard them at all.

"This cannot be!"

"I assure you, her behaviour is not that of an innocent. Her manipulative tactics can only belong to a traitor who has trained her in those arts. Her deception traces itself back to you." Thranduil landed this blow and all eyes were now focussed on Lord Elrond. This situation was impossible, Elrond could not abide by the slander but it was coming from a King! Elrond briefly looked to the empty seat beside him, where he assumed the Prince would be had he showed up.

"I have no quarrel with you, friend, in fact, I have hardly spoken to you these past few years." Elrond held up his hands in surrender..

"Then why has she tried to take down my entire bloodline with her lies?" The ensuing silence echoed between them, the question had been asked and Elrond was more lost than ever.

"Where is she?"

"Banished two months ago."

"Then why bother with her, whatever she had planned has not come to fruition? Why endure her any longer?" Elrond asked in earnest.

Thranduil stared at the empty seat at the table, he had hoped the invitation he extended would be accepted.

"Because she is pregnant."

All this time Tauriel and Maeglin were passive participants in the meeting. Keeping their emotions in check but once Thranduil uttered those words their eyes met. Their mutual sadness at this information was shared. Tauriel took a deep breath before addressing the group.

"Prince Legolas has been monitoring her for a few weeks now. He says she is living at an orc camp as Azog's slave."

The word slave was used hesitantly. Tauriel knew from Legolas that she whored herself to that mutilated orc willingly. She remembered how difficult it was for Legolas to even confide this to her. She tried to convince him to let her be but Legolas wanted to save his child if it was his. Her heart broke remembering Legolas' sullen features, he was truly defeated. She looked to Elrond who was confounded by the information.

"Who is the father of her first child?"

"Azog." Maeglin chimed in.

The table fell silent again as Elrond processed the information. Nienna clearly was not the elleth he thought she was. She had fallen and he knew who pushed her.

"Then it is clear to me who her allegiance lies with." Elrond spoke, he raised his eyes to meet Thranduil's.

"Azog."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Morning broke through the horizon with all its brilliant light and warmth. Nienna had barely slept the remainder of the night, her thoughts were awake with questions. The orc beside her grunted and turned over to face the little elleth still fast asleep. The events of the previous night occupied the majority of her thoughts. The tall figure with his pointed hat and long hair, he seemed like a sorcerer. His staff seemed ancient and his eyes old and ageless at the same time. If he possessed the power, he claimed to have then Nienna was just a pawn in the games of evil men. She was host to the next dynasty of wickedness. Ceroden and now these twins, her offspring would become the most feared creatures of all Middle Earth.

A small part of Nienna felt obliged to the cause of good and all goodness that resides in the world. She wanted no part of any evil scheming let alone to be the mother of some warrior army. Another part of her did not care for the games of males. They used her for their own agendas or gratification and what did it matter that she was now the most valuable vessel in Middle Earth.

A vessel.

Nienna stared for a long time at the roof the tent. There was a time when she decided she wanted a life that was her own, made hard decisions to make sure she could survive in relative peace surrounded by the books that enamoured her. What was the cost? She gave her son away to complete strangers and now he does not even view her as his own mother. Her peace and isolation she bought with silence and more sexual favours. The love of her life, Legolas, with whom she could have been most ardently happy.

Nienna looked at the trinket again, its presence seemed much larger than it did now that she knew its secret. The sorcerer had said, "I will be watching." She wondered if he could see her now, or if he could only view her with the lid open. She imagined many nights where the ghostly form would appear at her bedside and her sleeping form was none the wiser to its sinister agenda. The thought terrified her; how much did the sorcerer know?

Nienna remembered when Master Elrond first gave her the trinket, the immediate joy when she realised its secret. Invisibility. And true invisibility at that. Nienna had so much of Middle Earth opened to her but she only realised how it came a heavy price.

Nienna pondered the idea of summoning the sorcerer, to ask her questions. She turned to look at Azog sleeping beside her and decided now was as good a time as any. Slowly she slipped out of the bed, careful to not wake the sleeping beast. As she approached the trinket, her footsteps muffled by the turbulent wind, she felt a warm pressure on her chest. The temperature rose with every step she took. The feeling was terribly familiar…  
When she was scarcely a step away from the shelf the heat had become searing and Nienna saw her delicate pale skin turn to pink. She tested the trinket and took some steps back, the heat lessened, and she understood. He was not interested in being bothered by her.

She needed to coax him out of the trinket, perhaps in the only way she knew how.

Her eyes turned to the sleeping male behind her, from his wide nose to the long canines peeking out of his mouth. Nienna looked over the pale blue orc, glancing over the scratches that tore into the muscled flesh of his chest. Every inch of Azog was scarred from violence, every muscle sculpted from the terrors of war. She returned to the bed, gently placing herself in the sheets. A quick glance to the trinket she saw it glow a soft amber and she knew she had his attention. Her hand traced his flesh and she watched him twitch under her touch. She let her hand trail down until she reached his hips, she smiled at the thought of a little torture first. She delicately traced the outline of scars and bone around his manhood. Her touch caressing the inside of his thigh to the hip bone then dancing across to the other side all without a single touch on his thickening cock. She could feel Azog awaken slowly at her ministrations and she could not resist toying with him some more.

"Vexing slut, do not force me to punish you." The threat uttered from the sleepy orc was enough to send her own juices flowing.

Obeying, she grabbed the head of his cock and gently pumped the shaft. Azog twisted and squirmed under her touch before his pale blue eyes flew open to find her mischievous smile. Nienna quickly knocked the animal skins to the side and slid down to Azog's pelvis. She eyed the trinket on the shelf and made sure to kneel facing away from it. Her knees parted and she gave the trinket ample view of everything between her legs.  
Nienna knew that the sorcerer was easily seduced by her, for whatever reason, and an offer so tempting might reel him out of his hiding spot.  
As her lips came to the tip of Azog's head Nienna felt a familiar heat. Like a searing warmth that coated the backs of her thighs. Her mouth closed over the head and her tongue swirled around Azog's cock. The heat grew warmer and scorching trails raked over the mounds of her ass like nails. As her head bobbed up and down the hard manhood, feeling Azog's shaft throbbing around her tongue. The warmth behind her morphed into the shape of hands that massaged around her ass moving slowly towards her dripping centre. Nienna bent further so she could lick and suck on his balls, the large sack could hardly fit in her eager mouth. But she could feel heat reward her valiant effort by circling her throbbing nub. The sensation was building in her, the sorcerer's ministrations causing her to wiggle and squirm at his touch when all of sudden and white-hot slap burned her skin. The pain caused her to yelp and she turned back to look behind her to find no one there. The sorcerer…

Azog gripped Nienna's hair and brought her absent mouth to his cock and held her there. She moaned as he thrust upward into her throat all the while being stimulated by that delicious heat. Azog choked her as he spilt his seed into her watching her throat expand and constrict as she received him.

"Good wife." He uttered before pushing her off and getting out of the bed. The warmth settled on her back gently pulsing over her skin. Nienna felt his lust for her and knew she had his attention.

As Azog moved about the room, getting himself ready for the day, Nienna lay on her back across the bed in full view of the trinket. Her legs parted teasingly, and she began to snake her arm around her waist to the apex of her thighs. Her deft fingers stimulated her melting core as she focused her gaze on the trinket, feeling its streams of heat concentrate and gather on the insides of her thighs. Nienna delighted in the idea that he was trapped, unable to touch her while Azog was in the tent.

Are you afraid of him? Nienna thought as loudly as she could. Her fingers slid easily in her wetness and spread the lips before looking at the trinket again. She played in the wetness, the heat hesitantly focusing on her thighs unable to go further. You said you've thought about this.  
Her fingers began to pump her pussy while her thumb rubbed her clit. The sweet pleasure she felt scaled her body until every nerve ending was alive.

"No need for that," Azog spoke from the side of the bed, his face contorted into a malicious smile. But before the greedy beast could get his hands on her, one of his orc subordinates sounded a horn and Azog quickly dropped his smile. Fastening the last of his attire he ran to the opening in the tent and disappeared. Nienna looked at the entrance confusedly. Azog has never acted like that, he would never give up fucking her for literally anything. Something was wrong.

Nienna turned to face the shelf only to find the sorcerer fully formed in front of her. His eyes a dark red and in the bright morning light she saw him in full form. His staff was gone and his long bony hands covered in pale wrinkled skin stretched out in front of him.

"You have my attention," he spoke in a deep, piercing voice.

Nienna noted his lustful gaze trailing over her spread legs, her pussy ripe for fucking. His hand grabbed her ankle and dragged the naked elleth to the edge of the bed. Nienna looked at him more terrified than aroused, his ominous grin sending shivers up her spine.

"You will answer my questions," Nienna said with little conviction. The being laughed maliciously as he towered over her, the feeble little elleth making demands to him.

"There is no retribution you can inflict that would do any damage," he said, "I own you, whore."

Nienna felt his confidence and reeled back at his power. The sorcerer was a great deal stronger than her but she had other plans.

"I am not afraid of you," she began, "perhaps I should invite my second son to my bed just before my darling husband comes back."

The sorcerer's eyes became inflamed with rage at her disobedience and he reached forward to her throat sending a gripping force around the muscles without actually touching her.

"Careful," Nienna spluttered, "you don't want to hurt the twins."

The sorcerer gripped a little longer before releasing her, voicing curses on her name. Nienna fell back, her hands instinctively cradling her stomach. Her body seized as she choked and sputtered out coughs.

"Little one, you are not in control. Disobeying my orders will only get you killed. I can be your saviour or your killer, choose wisely and obey!" With that, the sorcerer turned to the grey smoke and returned back into the trinket. Nienna watched the lid of the trinket snap shut and felt a new surge of conviction.

If she wanted her life back, she was going to have to piss him off.

A/N: Please comment, would love to hear any feedback!


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